
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 




























od Montliiy. 


[No. 9.] 


Ffloe 25 Ceuts, 


Eutered at the Post OfiSce at New York at Second Class Rates.— July 15. 1889. 


Copyrighted by George Munro, 1889.— By Subscription, $3.00 per Annum. 


The Library of 

American Authors. 



•5K- 




■5|C- 


Siiiits ui Sinners, 

By MARIE WALSH, 

Author of ‘‘Hazel Kikke,” etc. 


Based on the Popular Play Performed by the Madison Square Theater Company. 


« 


GEORGE MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 

17 TO 27 VANDEVVATEH 8 THEET, NEW YORK. 





! 



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o 


SAINTS AND SINNERS; 

OR, 

THE MINISTER’S DAUGHTER. . 



MARIE WALSH. 



Based on the Popular Play Performed by the Madison Square 
Theater Company. 





NEW YORK: 

GEORGE MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 

J7 TO 27 Vandewater Street, 





Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1889, by 
GEORGE MUNRO, 

in the Office of the LibraHan of Congress, Washington, D. C. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


CHAPTER 1. 

A STRANGE ENCOUNTER. 

“ Now, my dear little ‘ Daisy,'’ you must just stop here 
a bit in this pretty nook!’^ 

Thus addressing the daintiest little craft that ever a pair 
of sculls in skillful hands propelled, the speaker, a very 
young and beautiful girl, deftly shot her boat into the de- 
sired haven, shipped her sculls, and sprung ashore, then 
made fast the painter to a tree-root. The river rippling and 
flowing at her feet and the waving boughs over her head 
made no inapt frame in which to place so fair a picture as 
this girl with her tall, slender, supple form and masses of 
purple-black hair flue as floss silk shadowing her beautiful 
face with its exquisitely chiseled features and large, mag- 
nificent dark eyes. This young girl was no ordinary coun- 
try lass, for she bore the stamp of that indefinite but un- 
mistakable something which marks innate grace and 
refinement. Her pretty boating-dress of dark-blue serge 
and wide-brimmed straw hat were exceedingly becoming. 

The spot at which she had landed was about six miles 
from Lynn, on the Ouse River. She stood leaning against 
a tree for some minutes without moving, a half-sorrowful, 
half-gloomy expression on her fair countenance. 

^‘Ido not care!’'* she exclaimed aloud. “I shall row 
back some time, 1 suppose. Heigh-ho! I am tired with 
my long pull from Downham; I am almost afraid that it 
^vill be dark before I reach home. I hope my father will 


G 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


not feel anxious. Lydia will scold, I suppose — she always 
does when I go off. Oh, I am so tired 

She threw herself down on the warm grass, pulled her 
hat over her eyes, and leaned back against the trunk of a 
large tree. She sat still for a few minutes, then a spar- 
row came hopping near where she was reclining, and she 
picked up a pebble to shy at the bird, which flew away as 
she aimed the stone at him. 

‘‘ I dislike Norfolk; it is the dullest county in England. 
I wonder if I will have to live and die in Downham? Will 
1 have to perform the same duties from Monday morning 
to Saturday night for the next five years?’^ 

This young maiden asked herself these questions in a 
low, musical voice, while an expression of discontent 
passed over her countenance. She often uttered her 
thoughts aloud when alone. The next moment she turned 
quickly as the faint echo of approaching oars stole on her 
ear. Looking in the direction from which the sound pro- 
ceeded, she saw a boat rowed by a gentleman, who flashed 
a look of admiration on her as he went rapidly by the spot 
where she was seated. 

“ What a handsome face he has!^^ thought the young 
girl, as the boat sped on. “ That girl is a beauty Eus- 
tace Fanshawe ejaculated, as he caught sight of the fair 
face shaded by the Gainsborough hat. 

The gentleman rowing past had a handsome, clear-cut 
profile, dark hazel eyes, and nut-brown hair. His mus- 
tache hid the sarcastic expression which lingered about his 
mouth at times. He had a tall, graceful figure, and car- 
ried himself with the erect bearing of a military officer — 
for he commanded a regiment in her majesty^s service. 

The young girl still sat absorbed in her day-dreams, too 
intent on them to perceive the black clouds over her head 
until the sky was suddenly completely overcast, and the 
change of the atmosphere aroused her at last. She sprung 
to her feet and quickly got ifito her boat, pulled out from 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


7 


the shore, and rowed toward Downham. It would be hard 
to decide which is a rower’s greater enemy, a strong current 
or a strong wind. I think the latter is the worst; and the 
young girl soon had cause to think the same, for it soon 
rose into a downright half gale dead against her, and 
almost, if not quite, neutralizing the advantage of having 
the stream with her. Sometimes as the river wound, it was 
on her beam, sometimes on her quarter, then again dead 
against the pretty little craft which sped on through the 
darkness that closed around her almost before she was 
aware of it. 

It was hard, weary, anxious work now, for it was un- 
usually dark by the time she had rowed half-way to Down- 
ham, and it was difficult to be sure of the various land- 
marks; the deep black shadows of the trees and banks all 
looked like water in the gloom, and as she hugged the lee 
shore as much as possible, she more than once found her- 
self among the reeds or blown off ohore with a force that 
was almost beyond her strength to make headway against. 
She had nearly three miles to pull before she reached her 
destination, and her heart sunk at the prospect before her. 

The wind, which had lulled for a second or so, passed 
across the lagoon into which the river widens, and with a 
thrill of terror which made even her bold young heart 
quail, the girl realized that the gale was her master. Her 
strength was giving out; she became nervous and lost an 
oar. In order to recover it she turned the boat with the 
other oar, and in so doing that one slipped from her hand. 
At this time the tide was running very fast, and the oars 
were soon swept away from the boat. Its young occupant 
clasped her hands together and screamed aloud in her ter- 
ror. 

Captain Fanshawe heard this cry of anguish and rowed 
in its direction. He soon came alongside of the small boat, 
and reaching out his hand grasped its side. 

“ Now, quick! scramble over to me and lash your 


8 


SAIKTS AND SINNEES. 


painter to my stern-rail while I give way!’^ said Eustace, 
whose manner, voice, and accent at once told of good 
birth and breeding; so without a word our heroine obeyed 
the order. 

She was soon in his boat,, catching her own painter; and 
while Captain Fanshawe instantly gave way again with all 
his strength against the wind, she lashed the painter to the 
stern-rail, to that the “ Daisy was fairly in tow. The 
young girl knew that she was saved, and sunk down, very 
white and exhausted — too much so, the captain saw, to 
heed whither they went. 

The wind had now spent its fury, and the black clouds 
began to disappear, and the angry waves calmed down. 

“ AVe will land in a few minutes, and I will find my 
pocket-fiask,’^ said Captain Fanshawe, slightly moving his 
boat^s nose into the lee bank, to which he had crossed; 
and, making her fast, said: “ Let me help you out.^^ 

“ Thank you; how kind you are.^' 

The great dark eyes, full of grateful tears, were uplifted 
to the singularly handsome face that bent over her as he 
took both of her hands and helped her out. 

“ Kind to myself, then,^^ he said, gayly; but that look, 
the touch of those clinging fingers thrilled strangely 
through him. “ Sit down here on this piece of lumber 
and drink some of this brandy; it^s a deuce of a pull 
against this wind — I beg your pardon — and we will rest a 
few minutes. Then you will tell me where I shall have 
the honor of taking you. Ah! there is the moon rising. 

He made her drink some of the liquor, which in truth 
she much needed, and sat down at her side. She recog- 
nized his face as that of the gentleman who had attracted 
her attention when he rowed past her. She saw that he 
was a tall, distingue-looking man of about thirty-two or 
three, whose graceful and well-set form was displayed by 
his white and blue boating - suit, and involuntarily she 


SAINTS AND SINKERS. 


9 


smiled up in the splendid dark-gray eyes as she caught the 
bright ready smile on the delicately cut lips. 

‘‘ I do not know how 1 can thank you for what you have 
done for me. ” 

“ It is nothing at all — not worth a word. It was lucky 
that I chanced to be so near. But forgive me; how in the 
world did a young girl like you get out there in a gale 
after dark?^^ 

Captain Fanshawe was sorry he had put the question to 
her, for he saw her color painfully. 

‘‘ I left Downham, where I reside, after an early din- 
ner, she said, so like a guilty child that her preserver 
smiled, all the more fascinated by her exquisite beauty and 
perfect ease and freedom of manner without one particle 
of self-consciousness. 

“ I pulled up half-way to King^s Lynn, when I became 
tired and got out of my boat to rest. ” 

“ Ah, I think I saw you reclining on the grass as I 
passed by. You row very well. Who taught you?^^ 

“ Mr. Kingsmill taught me, and my father bought me a 
boat. It is my only amusement, you know. 

‘‘ May I ask who is your father?” 

Certainly; he is the minister of Bethel Chapel — Rev- 
erend Jacob Fletcher.” 

‘‘ I have heard of your father from my friends, the Her- 
berts, whom I am visiting. Allow me to introduce my- 
self,” he said, as he put his hand into his pocket and took 
out a card-case, which he opened, and taking out a card, 
he handed it to her. 

The minister’s daughter looked at the card and saw 

Captain E. Fanshawe, R. R.” was engraved thereon. 

“ Are you an army officer?” 

“ Did you think I belonged to the navy?” 

I believe I did, for you appear to handle boats as if 
you were accustomed to them.” 


10 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ You were mistaken. If you feel better we will get 
into the boat again. 

“I am a great deal better, thank you,^^ replied Letty 
Fletcher, with a sweet smile. 

“ Come, then, I will row you to Downham. We have 
the light of the moon to guide us,^^ answered the captain. 

He helped Letty into the boat, then taking both the oars 
into his hands, with a few vigorous strokes he pushed the 
boat out into the middle of the river. When they landed 
in Downham Captain Fanshawe fastened his own boat and 
the “ Daisy, which he had in tow, to the dock; then 
turning to Letty, said: 

“ Allow me to escort you home?^^ 

“ Thank you, sir, but I would rather return home 
alone. 

“ But it's nearly ten o’clock." 

“ Oh, I am perfectly safe. Captain Fanshawe. I will 
not impose upon your good nature any more this even- 
ing." 

“ Believe me, it is a pleasure to serve you. Miss 
Fletcher." 

The minister’s daughter blushed, and was silent for a 
moment. 

“ What is it?" Captain Fanshawe asked, as he saw that 
she hesitated to tell him something. 

“ I will tell you the truth," replied Letty, frankly 
“ If I should be met by any of my father’s congregation 
walking with a strange gentleman, I would be called upon 
to give an account of myself." 

“ Surely you do not care for mere village gossip? Allow 
me to see you safely to your father’s door. I would feel 
as if I had not done my duty toward you if I allowed you 
to return home alone." 

“ I suppose I am foolish to dread the remarks of our 
gossiping neighbors. " 

“ Of course you are," replied the gallant captain, who, 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


11 


forgetful of all the hopes and ambitions of his life, walked 
home through the blue moonlit night with Letty Fletcher. 


CHAPTER 11. 

BETHEL PARSONAGE. 

The nine o^clock sunshine streaming in at Letty’s window 
awoke her the next morning. Letty, as a rule, was in- 
clined to be lazy in the mornings, but Lydia generally 
routed her in time for breakfast with the minister. But 
her young lady had had a narrow escape from sudden death 
and she had been providentially rescued by a stranger, 
therefore Lydia allowed her to sleep this morning. The 
faithful housekeeper did not imagine that the stranger of 
whom Letty spoke was a handsome officer, neither did 
Lydia know anything of the hours Letty had passed wake- 
fully tossing on her bed. Sleep? Her breast was full of 
delicious unrest. Would she ever see her handsome pre- 
server again? Poor Letty! how often she asked herself 
this question during the weary hours of the night. 

But all this glad tumult at last faded away in dreamless 
sleep. She awoke with a start to see the sunshine of the 
new day. She was still feeling tired from her struggle with 
the gale the previous evening, and in consequence arose 
and dressed herself very slowly. 

The reaction had come, and Letty was miserable. Prob- 
ably she would feel better after her breakfast; she said her 
prayers somehow, and then went down-stairs. 

Lydia was busy in the kitchen, but she noticed Letty^s 
pale face, and said : 

“ Miss Letty, you look ill this morning.'’’ 

“1 do not feel so, Lydia,” replied Letty, sitting down 
to eat her toast. 

“ I wish you would stop going off alone in your boat. 
You will be drowned some of these days. ” 


12 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


“ Nonsense, Lydia! don’t preach. Where is my fa- 
ther?” 

‘‘ He’s gone for his morning’s walk. You had better 
go and meet him, and try if the fresh air will blow a little 
life into your dead eyes and pale cheeks.” 

“ Yes, Lydia,” Letty answered, with unwonted meek- 
ness; and taking her garden-hat from the hall rack, she 
put it on and went out. 

“ The child will kill herself gadding about and rowing 
that boat. I hope losing her oars will prove a warning to 
her,” muttered Lydia, polishing the silver tea-pot. 

The full glow of the yellow sunshine floods Miss Lydia 
Phillips as she stands in her glory, and if you are a frivo- 
lous person, you will hover aloof and gaze with awe and 
silence. She is a maiden of thirty summers, tali, and 
spare — as maiden ladies usually are — with high cheek-bones, 
thin lips, deep-set eyes, a Koman nose, a very high fore- 
head, and her hair, which is of that hue called sandy, is 
tightly pinned in a knot at the back of her head. 

Her gingham dress is daintily clean, as is indeed every- 
thing about her. 

Miss Lydia Phillips could have married, but she pre- 
ferred to keep house for the minister and his daughter. 
She had almost a contempt for the opposite sex, and, for 
that matter, despised most women also — weak, purposeless 
beings, with no higher aim in life than their husbands and 
their children. 

Lydia was a thoroughly good, earnest woman in her 
way. If any one was ill in the parish she would sit up 
night after night with the invalid, knowing no weariness, 
asking no reward. Her life was devoted to the welfare of 
the minister and his daughter, whom she faithfully served. 

Lydia had finished cleaning her silver, and was about to 
make a pudding for dinner, when she heard a loud knock 
at the front door. When the housekeeper had opened the 
door. Lot Burden, her ardent admirer, entered. He was 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


13 


employed as foreman by the head deacon of Bethel Chapel, 
who was a wealthy tanner; he also collected the pew 
rents for Mr. Fletcher. Lot Bnrden^s features were in no 
way remarkable for manly beauty. In stature he hardly 
reached middle height, but his figure was well-propor- 
tioned. There was something in his eyes, in his smile — 
the outward expression perhaps of all that was modestly 
noble in his nature — so irresistible in its attractive infiu- 
ence, that men, women, and children felt the charm alike. 
Everybody in Downham was fond of Lot Burden; even 
Lydia admitted that he was an honest, industrious man, 
and she was pleased to see that he was the visitor instead 
of one of the tedious old gossips who called upon her mas- 
ter. 

“ Good-morning, Miss Lydia, said the young man, 
smilingly. 

^^Good-morning, Mr. Burden. 

Can I see Mr. Fletcher?^ ^ 

“ No; he has gone out to take his morning walk.^’ 

I am sorry he is not at home, for I have called with 
the quarterns pew rents which 1 collected."’^ 

“ Please walk into the study, Mr. Burden; I expect the 
minister will return very soon; he generally gets back by 
ten o'’ clock, and it is five minutes to ten now. ” 

“ I will wait for him, Miss Lydia. 

“ You had better do so,"^ replied she, opening the study 
door, which was on the first-floor of the pretty little cot- 
tage called by courtesy Bethel Parsonage. 

The room was plainly furnished. In the center there 
was a large library-table; on this there were several books, 
the manuscript of an unfinished sermon, and writing ma- 
terials. A small, well-filled book-case occupied a corner 
of the room, and a little table, on which rested the poor 
and hospital boxes, stood near the study door. On the 
mantel-piece there stood an old-fashioned clock. There 
was only one picture in the apartment — a portrait which 


14 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


hung above the time-piece. It was that of a beautiful 
dark woman. The picture had been painted by a cele- 
brated artist and resembled Letty Fletcher. 

The room had a cheerf ub home-like appearance. It was 
lighted by two large, low windows which opened on the 
garden and let in the sunshine with the scent of summer 
flowers. 

Lot Burden sighed as he glanced around him. His eyes 
rested on the housekeeper with an ardent gaze, which she 
did not appear to notice, because she just then stooped and 
picked up several pieces of paper which the wind had blown 
off the tg,ble. The clock upon the mautel-piece had struck 
ten, but Mr. Fletcher had not yet made his appearance. 

“ I wonder where the minister has gone? If you can 
not wait, Mr. Burden, give me the money, and 1 will lock 
it up until Mr. Fletcher returns. He shall count it and 
give you a receipt. I will take charge of it.^^ 

“ Certainly, Miss Lydia,^^ said Lot, handing her the 
package of money. 

“Mr. Fletcher is a baby in money matters. Why, he 
would spend every cent he laid his hands on for the poor 
of the parish. ” 

“ Oh, bless your heart. Miss Lydia, they impose on the 
minister 

“ That they do, Mr. Burden. 1 wonder what would be- 
come of him and Miss Letty if I were not here to take care 
of them?’^ 

“ They could hardly spare you. Miss Lydia; but it does 
seem hard for you to give them all your best days.'^ 

“ They are welcome to all my days, Mr. Burden. I 
have been with the family ever since I was eleven years 
old. I could not put the kettle on the hob when I came 
to them. Poor, dear Mrs. Fletcher taught me all I 
know.'’^ 

“ But, Miss Lydia, you ought to consider other people’s 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


15 


feelings. You know I have been waiting on you for the 
last five years. 

“ I can not help that, Mr. Burden, if you will be fool- 
ish. 

“ But, Miss Lydia, I have had my wages raised, and 
with such a saving woman as you — 

“ There, that will do, Mr. Burden,^^ interrupted Lydia; 
“you need not cast sheep^s eyes at me; it will not do. 
What upon earth would Mr. Fletcher do without me? He 
never could make ends meet on less than a hundred and 
twenty pounds a year.-’^ 

“ Why, Miss Lydia, you can teach Miss Letty to keep 
house for her father. 

“ Nonsense, Mr. Burden. She is no more good than a 
pet canary bird; so say no more about it, if you please. 

“ But marriage is honorable, so the Scriptures say. The 
Apostles were married.^-’ 

“ As I said before, Mr. Burden, you will please not men- 
tion the subject again. I am neither ashamed nor afraid 
of being an old maid,’"' said this peculiar woman, as she’ 
rearranged the books on the minister's desk for the third 
time during their interview. 

Lot Burden felt discouraged, for he loved Lydia and was 
anxious to make her his wife. His face bore a pained 
look, but he stood his disappointment bravely, and after a 
short, embarrassing pause, said: 

“ Oh, Miss Lydia, I forgot to mention that Seth Will- 
iams told me that he met Miss Letty in the Lovers’ Walk 
last night, with that dashing officer who is visiting some- 
where around here.” 

“ What! our Miss Letty?” the housekeeper exclaimed, 
turning sharply around and looking indignantly at her 
would-be suitor. “ He must have been mistaken; the 
child is not acquainted with any such person.” 

“ X thought that I had better inform you of the matter, 


16 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


for if Seth Williams would say such a thing to me, he 
would to others, too.^-’ 

“ You are right, Mr. Burden. I do not believe Seth 
Williams ever saw Miss Letty. He has taken some one 
else for her; of course he would say it was the minister’s 
daughter. For gossiping, idle, good-for-naught folks, 
Downham ought to take the prize,” remarked Lydia, 
frowning severely. 

“ I must go. Miss Lydia, as I have two or three errands 
to do for Mr. Hoggard before I return to the tannery. 
Good-bye, Misu Lydia,” said Lot Burden, with one of his 
rare smiles, as he passed out of one of the low windows 
that led to the garden path. 

Lydia sighed as she saw him disappear down the road. 
She then took the broom and commenced to sweep the 
front porch with a vim that astonished several members of 
the congregation as they passed by. Lydia’s faithful heart 
was heavy. She was indignant that any one should cen- 
sure her beautiful young lady, who was the most perfect of 
human beings in her eyes. The idea that Miss Letty would 
be seen walking with a stranger after dark was out of the 
question. 

“ The world must be coming to an end when Miss Letty 
is gossiped about,” she muttered. 

Poor Lydia! she had forgotten how late Letty returned 
home on the previous evening. 

The Reverend Mr. Fletcher came slowly up the garden- 
walk as Lydia finished sweeping and dusting the front 
porch and steps. 

“ Lot Burden has been here, Mr. Fletcher,” said Lydia. 

“ I am sorry that I was not at home to receive him. 
Did he wish to see me about anything particular, Lydia?” 

“Yes, sir; he brought the pew rents,” answered Lydia, 
following the minister into his study. 

Mr. Fletcher counted the money, and wrote out a receipt 
for the amount, which he put away for Lot Burden. He 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


17 


then handed his quarterns salary to Lydia, reserving three 
pounds for himself. 

“ Letty must have a new dress, Lydia. 

“ You want a new coat more than she does a new 
dress. 

You think this coat has seen its best days?^^ 

“Yes, sir,? replied Lydia. 

“ It has done me good service, and it seems ungrateful 
to cast it aside. It is like passing by an old friend when 
he is in adversity. I will wear it, Lydia, as long as I can 
do so.^^ 

“ That is the way you always do, Mr. Fletcher. You 
deprive yourself of everything in order to give Miss Letty 
all the fine clothes she fancies,^'’ said the housekeeper, as 
she left the room. 

The Reverend Mr. Fletcher smiled as he arranged his 
papers on the table, endeavoring to collect his thoughts. 
He turned the pages of a well-worn Bible which, after a 
little while, he began to peruse. The fresh air came 
balmily to his temples as he read. A bird fiuttered to and 
fro by the open window, and at length perched itself upon 
the bough of a tree, where it trilled forth a song, and its 
companions, hearing, joined in the chorus. 

The clergyman listened to the songsters and smiled. 
Then he smoothed back the pages of the Bible which the 
breeze playfully lifted whenever he removed his hand from 
the volume, and again he became absorbed in his book. 
Mr. Fletcher was a gentleman by birth and education. He 
was somewhat above the medium height, and his figure was 
nobly proportioned. The features of his face were clearly 
cut, but they wore a sad expression. The patient sweet- 
ness of the mouth and his mild blue eyes revealed the 
character of the man. The hair was parted from his fore- 
head after a peculiar fashion, and fell loosely below his 
neck, giving the upper portion of his countenance an air 
of meekness and almost feminine softness. His locks 


18 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


had once been of raven blackness, but now they were 
thickly interspersed with silver. His whole appearance 
was that of a man of chastened and benevolent spirit, to 
whom a child or wounded bird would instinctively creep 
for protection. He was a picture of holy thought and 
quiet study as he sat conning his Bible. The sound of ap- 
proaching footsteps now interrupted his tranquillity, and 
his daughter entered the room. She flung her hat on a 
chair, then kissed her father. 

“ Well, my dear, what is it?’^ the minister asked, smiling 
affectionately. 

‘‘ Oh, nothing, daddy, only I am sick and tired of this 
stupid place. Everything in Downham is so very respecta- 
ble, so very proper. You can not walk across the road 
but everybody knows what sort of a dress you have on, and 
exactly how much it cost. I wonder if I shall have to get 
up at the same hour in the morning, and do the same thing 
every day for the next ten years?^’ 

Letty sighed as she asked the question. 

“ You do not do exactly the same thing every day, my 
dear. We are not very lively, I will admit. There will 
be the Sunday-school picnic next week — that will be a 
change. 

‘‘ Oh, that is nothing but buns, milk, and village gossip. 
I wonder if it will always be so?^^ 

“ I suppose when Ealph has saved money enough, you 
will get married and leave me, my darling 

“No, daddy,^^ cried Letty, throwing her arms around 
her father’s neck. “ You are talking nonsense. I can 
not help people falling in love with me, can I, daddy?” 

“ Indeed, I thought that you and Ealph understood each 
other. Eh, Letty?” 

The young girl blushed and hung her head. 

“ 1 don’t want to leave you, daddy,” she replied. 

Her fair face was clouded, and the tears stood in her 
eyes, 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


19 


Why had Ralph Kingsmiirs name suddenly grown so 
distasteful to her? Was the dark, handsome face of Eus- 
tace Eanshawe already photographed upon "her mental 
vision? In another moment her mood abruptly changed; 
she sprung up. 

“ Ah, daddy she exclaimed, “ I wish we could go 
about with an organ, a monkey, and a wax-work show like 
a man I saw to-day.^' 

The minister smiled gently as his daughter drew up a 
low stool and sat down at his feet. He softly smoothed 
her hair. He was well accustomed to her strange fancies, 
and rarely chided her for indulging in imaginary exploits. 

“ Daddy, you could grind the organ, said Letty, clap- 
ping her hands with childish glee. 

“ That would be easier work, I fancy, than trying to 
grind the miserable qualities out of poor humanity,-’^ re- 
plied her father, good-humoredly. 

“ 1 would wear a gay dress, and pass around the hat.^^ 

“We would pick up a few pennies, I fancy, my dear.” 

“ Of course we would, daddy.” 

“ How like your aunt Letty you grow, child!” said the 
minister, sighing as he looked at the portrait over the 
mantel-piece. 

“Do I, daddy? Do tell me her history. You know 
you promised me. 

“ Some other time, dear.” 

“ Is it a love story?” 

“ Yes, Letty, a love story with a sad ending.” 

Just as the minister had finished speaking, a remarka- 
bly handsome man with light chestnut hair, blue eyes, and 
auburn beard, entered the study. He was more than six 
feet in height, but his figure was so well formed he did not 
appear awkward in the least. His eyes sparkled when he 
saw Letty, who bowed calmly as she shook hands with her 
father. 

“ Please excuse me, Mr. Kingsmill; I forgot to tell 


20 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


Lydia something/’ said Letty, as she hastily left the apart- 
ment. 

Ealph Kingsmill’s face flushed hotly as he perceived her 
indifference. He was devotedly attached to Letty, but he 
felt that for some unaccountable reason her manner was 
constrained and cold. He watched her retreating figure 
with a strange foreboding, and sighed heavily; but as the 
human heart must find an outlet even in the most stoical, 
he turned to the minister for sympathy, and asked: 

“ Why did she run away?” 

“ I do not know, Ealph; she is a strange girl. My dear 
boy, why don’t you tell Letty you love her?” 

“ May I, Mr. Fletcher?” “ 

‘‘ Certainly, Ealph; the dearest wish of my heart is to 
see her your wife. ” 

“ May Heaven bless you, sir! You give me hope. Will 
you speak a good word for me?” 

“ No, Ealph; you must tell Letty yourself. I don’t be- 
lieve in meddling in love affairs. No good ever comes 
ofiit.” 

“ I am mad with heartache for her; but I fear I have 
not the courage to ask her to be my wife.” 

“ Nonsense, Ealph!” exclaimed the minister, smiling. 
“ Speak out like a man, and all will be well.” 

He spoke as he felt, believing that his daughter loved 
Ealph Kingsmill, but owing to her maiden reserve she 
was endeavoring to conceal her feelings. It is well that 
we can not foretell the future. If we knew how many 
disappointments, cares, and sorrows we should have to un- 
dergo, few of us would have the courage to face them. 

An all-wise Providence has shrouded the future in mys- 
tery and given us hope, so that we may have fortitude to 
bear our burdens bravely. 


! 


SAINTS AND SINNEES. 21 


CHAPTER III. 

LETTY^ S SUITO RS. 

Ralph grasped the minister^’s hand and gave it a warm 
pressure; the young man felt grateful for the elder man's 
kind words of encouragement. 

“ I will take your advice, sir. If Letty does not love 
me, I have made up my mind to leave England. I will 
go to Australia; there is more breathing room out there. " 

“Australia is a fine country, and one that is bound to 
prosper. If I was twenty years younger, I would go with 
you; but I am too old, my boy. I have been the pastor 
of Bethel Chapel for nearly thirty years. I love my peo- 
ple, Ralph." 

“ And they love you, sir, especially the poor." 

“ I want the poor to love me; the rich have so many 
who love them in this world." 

“ So they have. I often wonder if some of our deacons 
practice what they preach." 

“ I hope they do, Ralph, for they ought to set a good ex- 
ample to the rest of the congregation. Shall I call Letty?" 
the minister asked, suddenly. 

“ No; I hear her footstep — she is coming." 

“ That is more than I do, Ralph." 

“ Ah, sir! it has set my heart beating too many times 
not to recognize it." 

The door opened as Ralph spoke, and Letty entered. 

“ Well, is your gossip over, daddy?" 

“ Yes, Letty; we have had our gossip," answered the 
minister, as he walked toward the nearest window and 
looked out. “ 1 declare there are those chickens in the 
garden again. 

“ I will go and chase them out, daddy. " 

“ You need not, Letty. I will attend to them. See, 


22 


SAINTS AND SINNERS, 


there is that little bantam fighting/^ As Jacob Fletcher 
left the room, he whispered to Ralph: Speak out like a 
man. You know ‘ faint heart ne^er won fair lady.'’ ’’ 

Ralph gazed after the minister for a moment; he hesi- 
tated, then abruptly arose from his seat and followed Mr. 
Fletcher into the garden. 

“ Why, man, what ails you?’^ the latter asked, im- 
patiently. “ I left the room purposely to give you a 
(Ranee to speak to Letty.^^ 

“ 1 know it, sir, but I am a fool. I am afraid to speak, 
because if she does not love me, I would rather not know 
it.’^ 

“ Ha! ha!^^ laughed the minister, greatly amused at the 
lugubrious expression on Ralph’s face. “ If you do not 
tell Letty that you love her, how will she know it? Take 
my advice, and tell her at once. Delays are dangerous at 
Letty’s age. If you don’t speak, some one will.” 

The young man’s face crimsoned as he replied: 

“ I will do as you say at once.” 

He hastily ran up the steps and again entered the study. 

“Ah! I thought that would settle him. Jealousy will 
take the fear out of his heart, and he will have an under- 
standing with my darling. I hope Letty will accept him, 
for he is an honest lad, and loves her ardently,” mur- 
mured the minister, as he walked toward the road that led 
to Bethel Chapel. When Ralph re-entered the room, 
Letty looked at him in astonishment. 

“ Letty, you know what I want to say to you, but the 
words won’t come,” he said, abruptly. 

“ Shall I get you a dictionary?” Letty asked, coolly. 

“Ah! lass, I am thirsty,” he stammered, looking down 
at the carpet and playing with his watch-chain. He en- 
deavored to hide his confusion, but in vain; he was pain- 
fully conscious that he was pleading his suit badly. 

“ There is nothing but milk in the house,” replied 
Letty, smiling. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


33 


“ Letty, you know what I wish to say to you/'’ he an- 
swered, impatiently. 

‘‘ Is it about old Dumbleton^s colt?^^ Letty questioned, 
looking at him innocently, and trying to hide her laughing 
face by wiping it with her handkerchief. Ralph noticed 
her look of amusement, and he began to feel indignant at 
the idea of her ridiculing him. 

“ Heaven forgive you, Letty. You know I love you. I 
have loved you, I believe, ever since you were a wee lass 
of six summers, when you first came to school. Do you 
remember how often I carried you home on wet days, for 
I was a large boy for my twelve years? Letty, if you had 
the choice of a thousand men you could not find one to 
love you as I do. 

Letty turned her head away from him. The smiles van- 
ished from her face, and a look of distress passed over her 
countenance; but she could not speak. 

‘‘ Take your own time, lass, to answer me. Try to 
learn to love me, Letty dear — if you do not now. Give 
me that little locket and chain in token that one day you 
will be my wife,^^ he pleaded in a voice that shook with 
emotion. 

The girl sprung to her feet, trembling from head to foot, 
but by a strong mental efiort she controlled her feelings, 
and said: 

“ Ralph, I am not worthy of your great love; go away 
and forget me.'^ 

A painful blush overspread her features as she spoke. 

“ A few months ago, Letty, you kissed a little bunch of 
violets I gave you — you loved me then. Who has stolen 
your love from me?’^ the young farmer indignantly de- 
manded. 

For a moment Letty looked steadily at him, then her 
eyes flashed as she replied: 

“ You have not any right to ask me such a question 

‘‘Then there is some one else? Oh, Letty! you once 


24 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


cared a little for me!'" cried Ealph, feeling all his cher- 
ished hopes fast vanishing. 

“ Oh, Ealph! I do care for you; but I do not love you 
well enough to become your wife," answered the young 
girl, weeping softly for the pain she was obliged to inflict. 

Could you not try to love me a little, Letty? I will 
give you time — I will be patient — only give me some 
hope!" 

“I dare not," murmured she, hiding her face in her 
hands. 

“ Because you love another!" he said, bitterly. 

“No, no, Ealph; I do not know my own heart," re- 
plied Letty, truthfully. She did not understand why the 
idea of wedding her old friend had grown so distasteful to 
her. 

“ Letty, how dear you have become to me I never real- 
ized until now, when I have to say good-bye. My mind 
is made up to leave the country." 

“ Ealph!" Letty exclaimed, growing pale. 

“ I could not remain here and see some more fortunate 
man woo and wed you. May your life be a happy one, 
dear. I shall never forget you." 

He hastily stooped and kissed her, then blindly rushed 
out of the room. 

The minister's daughter felt very miserable and wept 
bitterly; she knew that she had not treated Ealph right. 
For the last two years he had been her constant companion 
and escort, and every one in Downham supposed she was 
betrothed to the handsome young farmer. 

Ealph loved Letty in the flue, true sense of the word. 
His heart was filled with benevolence and tenderness for 
her; he had put her on its altar and made her sacred to 
him for all time, and he passionately desired her happiness; 
but to remain in England and stand the anguish of seeing 
her become another man's wife — that he knew was impos- 
sible. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


For a long time after his departure Letty sat immov- 
able. She was thinking of a thousand and one little acts 
of kindness which the man she had j ust rejected had shown 
her. How safe and sure of happiness I would be if I were 
his wife. I think Captain Fanshawe admires me. I won- 
der if he will ever love me? How strange it would be if 
he should care enough about me to seek me/’ she thought. 
So absorbed was she in her day-dreaming that she did not 
notice that Lydia had ushered a gentleman into the study 
until she heard the housekeeper say: 

“ Miss Letty, do you know where the minister is?” 

Letty arose and turned her face toward her father’s vis- 
itor. She started, and then the blood dyed her cheeks as 
she stammered: 

“ Lydia, you will find my father in the garden, I think.” 

Lydia cast a suspicious glance at Captain Fanshawe as 
she passed from the apartment. “ 1 wonder what brings 
that military swell here? Did Seth Williams see Miss 
Letty last night?” she asked herself under her breath as 
she went in quest of her master. 

As soon as she had disappeared, Letty turned to her vis- 
itor and abruptly demanded : 

“ Why have you come here. Captain Fanshawe?” 

“ To see you,” was his laconic reply. 

“ But I forbade you to call on me,” retorted Letty. 

“Then I came to see your father, to give him ten 
pounds for his poor-box. I have no better excuse. I was 
determined to see you again.” 

“ Even if it cost ten pounds?” 

“ Yes, ten times ten pounds. Why did you not meet 
me in the Lovers’ Walk this morning? You promised me 
to do so when we parted.” 

“ Because I did not choose to keep my appointment,” 
replied Letty. 

“ Will 3 ^ou meet me to-night?” 


26 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


‘‘ No, Captain Faiishav^e, I can not see yon. We have 
a meeting of the Dorcas Society. 

“ To-morrow night, then?^^ urged the captain. 

‘‘ Our sewing society meets here to-morrow evening. 

“ Say Thursday evening then?^’^ 

“ Impossible, as 1 shall spend the day in King^s Lynn. 
We have our Sunday-school picnic there almost every 
year. We visit the town, have lunch in the woods, and 
come home by boat. 

Letty found herself conversing with Captain Fanshawe 
as she would have done with an old and valued friend. 
She felt that after having saved her life she owed him a 
great debt of gratitude. This made her unusually gracious 
to him. 

“Oh, that will be delightful — I will be there,"’ said 
Eustace, with a merry twinkle in his dark eyes. 

“ Will you ask my father’s consent?” Letty asked, 
eagerly. 

“ I never ask any one’s consent, my dear girl. 1 do as 
I please. You are too kind to deprive me of the pleasure 
of seeing you. You were very glad to see me last night.” 

“ Yes, Captain Fanshawe, 1 was; and believe me, I feel 
exceedingly grateful for your prompt aid. I shall always 
remember you kindly for having saved my life,” said 
Letty, frankly. 

“ I am glad that 1 was able to render you some assist- 
ance, so that you will tolerate me at your Sunday-school 
picnic. Suppose you happen to wander ofi alone and meet 
me accidentally,” suggested the handsome officer with one 
of his most fascinating smiles. 

“No, Captain Fanshawe, I can not meet you, and 1 for- 
bid you to seek me.” 

“ Pray, what harm is there in meeting me?” 

“ I do not care to do so, because I do not wish to bo 
made subject to gossip,” replied Letty, firmly. 

“ But you will meet me.” 


SAINTS AND SlNNKKS. 


27 


“ 1 will nofc.’^ contradicted Letty. 

“ You little witch, you will! you will!"^ cried Eustace 
Fanshawe. Yielding to an irresistible impulse, he caught 
the beautiful girl in his arms and kissed her. 

Letty was too surprised to make any resistance or even 
to speak; and just then the minister, who had been in- 
formed that a gentleman wished to see him, entered the 
study. He started back in amazement when he saw his 
daughter clasped in the arms of a stranger. 

“ Letty he exclaimed, in a pained and surprised tone, 
“ what does this mean?’^ 

The captain, man of the world as he was, had the grace 
to blush. He quickly recovered himself and said: 

“ Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Fanshawe 
— Captain Eustace Fanshawe of the Fifth Royal Rifles. I 
happened to be of some service to your daughter in that 
boat accident last night 

“ Does that give you a right to enter my house, sir, and 
insult her.^^^ the minister indignantly demanded. 

‘‘ You are mistaken, Mr. Fletcher. I hadnT the slight- 
est intention of insulting Miss Fletcher. I acted, I must 
confess, very impulsively, but 1 trust to your forgiveness.^^ 

The minister vvas not deceived by the captain^’s apology. 
He instinctively knew that his daughter would be con- 
taminated by any intercourse that she might have with 
him; therefore Mr. Fletcher was determined not to be con- 
ciliated. 

“You need not apologize. Captain Fanshawe. Your 
station in life is different to ours. I do not care to have 
my daughter’s head turned by flattery. You will do me 
the favor to walk out of my house and never enter it 
again.” 

The minister handed the captain his hat and cane. 

For a moment this debonair man was completely non- 
plused; then he took his hat and cane with a reluctant air 
as if he were mortified by the minister’s dismissal, and 


28 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


bowing ceremoniously to both father and daughter, left 
the room. 

His vanity was wounded to think that a country parson 
had dared to order him to leave his house. A dark scowl 
came over his face as he walked down the garden path. 

“ 1^11 take your daughter's opinion on that, my pious 
friend. You have turned me out of your house to-day; 
take care your daughter does not leave it to-morrow,'' 
muttered the captain between his set teeth as he slammed 
the gate of Bethel Parsonage after him. 

Letty sat with head bowed and face hidden by her hands. 
She felt like some guilty creature. 

“ My child," said the clergyman, his voice trembling as 
he placed his hand on her bowed head. 

“ Father, don't speak to me; don't look at me. Let 
me go to my room." 

“ No, my child, hear me first. You asked me for your 
aunt Letty's history to-day. It is told in a few words, my 
daughter. She was beautiful, she was tempted, and she 
forgot all the teachings of her home, and left it only to re- 
turn to our arms to die a broken-hearted, miserable 
woman. ’ ' 

“ Say no more, father," the deeply mortified girl ex- 
claimed. “ A good man asked me to learn to love him to- 
day, and to give him my necklace in token that I would 
become his bride. Go and see Ralph, and give him this 
trinket, and tell him if he will only give me time I shall 
try to love him with my whole heart. " 

“ My own Letty!" said the minister, kissing his daugh- 
ter fondly as she gave him the locket and chain. “ Heaven 
bless you, child; now 1 know that you are safe!" 


CHAPTER IV. 

GOSSIP ABOUT THE FLETCHERS. 

Old Lynn, or West Lynn, which lies on the west side of 
the Ouse River, although neither a cathedral nor manufact- 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


29 


uring town, is, nevertheless, a place of considerable im- 
portance. King’s Lynn, which is on the opposite side of 
the river, is another portion of the town which is noted for 
the numerous objects of antiquity to be found there. 

Passing out of West Lynn toward the east you will notice 
a number of detached houses. These houses are scattered 
along for about a mile until you come to the beautiful es- 
tate known as Herbert Manor, which is seven miles dis- 
tant from West Lynn, and about five from Downham. 

The mansion itself is built of red brick with a lofty 
tower, and stands back from the road. A well-kept lawn 
extends around it. This is divided in the center by a 
gravel path which leads up to the main entrance of the 
house. A fiight of stone steps with crouching lions superb- 
ly cast leads to the portico. Upon entering the wide hall 
the visitor is shown into a handsomely furnished reception- 
room, and this opens into Mrs. Herbert’s private sitting- 
room. 

In this room we find Captain Fanshawe the day after he 
called upon Letty Fletcher. He is talking to Mr. Herbert 
whose guest and intimate friend he is. Mrs. Herbert, a 
pretty, fair-haired matron with blue eyes, bright complex- 
ion, and small, aquiline features, was listlessly turning 
over the leaves of a magazine, and listening to the con- 
versation of the two men. 

“ By the way, do you know a family by the name of 
Fletcher residing at Downham?” Captain Fanshawe asked 
during a pause in the conversation. 

“ You must mean the Reverend Jacob Fletcher, the pas- 
tor of Bethel Chapel — a good Christian in word and deed, 
a man who lives up to what he preaches. ” 

“ Yes, I believe he is the gentleman. I met his daugh- 
ter accidentally on the river, and was fortunate enough to 
save her from what might probably have been a fatal acci- 
dent.” 

‘‘ You did a good deed, my friend, for Letty is the only 


30 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


child the minister has, and he is naturally very much at- 
tached to her,'” remarked Mr. Herbert. “ Her mother 
and her beautiful but unfortunate aunt Letty, after whom 
the young lady you rescued is named, were very great 
friends of my mother. They attended the same school, 
and, like most girls, swore unswerving fidelity to each 
other. 

‘‘ Ah, I believe girls always must have some one to love, 
even if it is only one another,” said Mr. Herbert. 

‘‘ My dear, your sex is equally affectionate, and far more 
constant as a rule so far as your friendships are con- 
cerned.” 

“You are right, my dear madame; your husband is the 
one friend of my life of whom I am proud. We were 
chums at Oxford together, and we have continued to think 
well of each other, though some of our mutual acquaint- 
ances have informed him that 1 am the greatest sinner on 
the face of the earth. 

“ My dear Fanshawe, I believe I understand you better 
than most persons do; besides, 1 know your sad history. 
If your character has altered, it is because you have been 
badly treated; but still there remain in you many redeem- 
ing traits.” 

“ Come, come, Herbert, that will do. 1 know I am a 
scapegrace. I am sorry for it; but fate and women have 
always proved too much for me.” 

“ For shame. Captain Fanshawe!” Mrs. Herbert ex- 
claimed, in evident displeasure. “ Pray do not excuse 
your follies.” 

“ I beg pardon, madame. I always speak so frankly to 
Henry that I forgot myself. Your husband is a lucky 
man to have won you for his wife. He owes more to your 
devotion than he is aware of.” 

“ Captain Fanshawe, Henry is one of the best husbands 
in the world,” Mrs. Herbert said, fervently, as she glanced 
at her husband. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


31 


“ If I am, little woman, 1 have your influence to thank 
for it,^^ replied Herbert, with a fond smile as he looked at 
his wife. ‘‘ Come, my dear, tell us all about the Fletch- 
ers. Fanshawe is longing to hear all you know.^^ 

“ There is not much to tell, Henry. 

‘‘ Let us hear your tale, my dear, and we will judge of 
its merits. It will beguile an hour, and I know it will sur- 
pass some of the stories I have lately read.^' 

Thus encouraged, Mrs. Herbert began: 

“ The Misses Parker were from Yorkshire. Their fa- 
ther was a small squire of limited means. They had a 
governess until Helen was sixteen and Letty fourteen, 
when they were sent up to London to a boarding-school. 
The previous year their mother had died and their father 
married the governess. My mother left school a year- 
prior to Helen Parker and two years before Letty, but 
she corresponded regularly with her old school-mates; and 
I remember hearing her speak of Miss Parker^s marriage 
when I was seven years old. 

‘‘The year after that Henry inherited his father’s es- 
tate, and we came here to live, and my mother soon after 
paid us a visit. The first Sunday she was here we attend- 
ed Bethel Chapel. We were very much surprised to find 
that my mother recognized the minister’s wife as her old 
school-mate, Helen Parker. Mrs. Fletcher called on my 
mother the next day, and of course inquiries were made 
about Letty Parker; but the minister’s wife did not know 
what had become of her beautiful sister, as the latter had 
left home very mysteriously. Mrs. Fletcher told my 
mother that after her own marriage Letty remained at 
home, and was very unhappy, there being very little sym- 
pathy between her and the step-mother. ” 

“ Did Mrs. Fletcher never learn her sister’s fate?” Cap- 
tain Fanshawe asked, looking interested. 

“ Yes, years after. She had eloped with an otflcer be- 


32 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


longing to one of the regiments. The barracks were only 
three miles from her home.^^ 

“ Ah, I thought so,^^ remarked the captain, with an 
amused smile. 

“ Cupid always seems to favor Mars. The uniform has 
a wonderful attraction for the fair sex,^^ said Mr. Herbert, 
smiling. 

“ Oh, Henry, you ought to say for some of our sex. I 
never cared for the — 

“ Army, my love, or you would not have married me,’^ 
interrupted her husband. 

“ You know I preferred legal geiitlemen,^^ said Mrs. 
Herbert, with a smile. “ But let me continue my story. 
Seven years ago one winter evening, about a week before 
Christmas, a woman fell down in a swoon at the minister's 
door. Mr. Fletcher found her half buried in the snow. 
He lifted her up, carried her in, and laid her on a sofa be- 
fore the study fire; then he called his wife to attend to 
her. He supposed that she was some poor wanderer who 
came to seek his assistance — for Jacob's charity is well 
known in this neighborhood. 

“ When Mrs. Fletcher's eyes fell on the woman's face 
she recognized her sister in spite of the ravages that time 
and sorrow had wrought in her delicate beauty. 

“ The unhappy woman was soon restored to conscious- 
ness, and she found herself in her sister's arms. My 
mother was sent for the next day, as she had expressed a 
wish to see her. Letty then told the pitiful story of her 
betrayal. Captain Poole had fallen in love with her. 
They were privately married, and went to London. Two 
years after she discovered that she was not legally the cap- 
tain's wife. The deceived woman left him, taking her child 
with her, and supported herself as well as she could. 

“ Her child lived to be three years old, then it died; but 
she struggled on, earning only enough to keep body and 
soul together by doing fine needle -work. She saw the 


SAIN'TS ANJ) SINKEKS. 


33 


notice of her father^s death in the newspaper, and she 
knew well that her step-mother would not give her a crust. 
Not caring to become a burden to her sister, she continued 
to live in her miserable London attic until privation and 
constant labor threw her into a decline. She then mus- 
tered up courage to come to her sister, wishing to see her 
once more. Before the chimes were rung to welcome the 
New-year, Letty Parker died. She lies buried in Bethel 
church-yard.^^ 

“ Heigh-ho! my dear, your story is a sad one. Let us 
hope that her niece, who bears her name, may have a hap- 
pier fate.’’"’ 

“ I hope that she will be spared the sufferings which my 
mother’s friend endured,^^ said Mrs. Herbert with a sigh. 

“ My dear, the minister's daughter will have a different 
fate from her aunt^s, for she will marry Ealph Kiugs- 
mill.^’ 

“ Are they engaged?’^ asked Captain Fanshawe, eager- 
ly. He felt interested in Letty Fletcher. 

‘‘I believe they are. I am certain Ealph is devoted to 
her; and I can not imagine that she could be indifferent to 
him, for he is one of the handsomest men I ever saw,^’ 
said Mrs. Herbert. 

“He is an honest, upright man, and will make her an 
excellent husband. My father had a great deal of esteem 
for his family,^’ remarked Mr. Herbert. 

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the 
dressing-bell, which warned them that it was time to make 
their evening toilets. Mrs. Herbert excused herself and 
left the room. The gentlemen also sought their dressing- 
rooms. 

When Captain Fanshawe was making his toilet he asked 
his valet if he had taken the bouquet to Miss Fletcher. 

“ Yes, sir, I did.^’ 

“ How is the young lady to-day 

“ Very well, I believe, sir.'’^ 


34 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


‘‘ Blockhead Captain Fanshawe exclaimed, as a scowl 
darkened his brow, “did I not order you to inquire par- 
ticularly if Miss Fletcher had suffered any inconvenience 
from the fright she had on the river on Tuesday evening?^^ 

“You did, sir,^^ answered Leeson, dryly. 

“ Then why did you not obey my orders 

“ Because I could not, sir. That housekeeper of the 
parson^s was too much for me. 1 was actually glad to get 
out of the house. 

“ It is refreshing to hear you say that you are afraid of 
a woman, Leeson.’^ 

“ 1 am of that woman. She snatched the flowers out of 
my hand and bade me never to show my face there again 
or she would set the dog on me. Oh, she is a Tartar 

“ Humph! a regular grenadier in petticoats, I suppose.-’^ 

“ She is, sir,^’ answered Leeson, as he helped his master 
to put on his dress-coat. 

As soon as dinner was over at Herbert Manor, Captain 
Fanshawe excused himself to his host and set out for a 
brisk walk. Did he hope that he would meet Letty 
Fletcher? His indignation arose when he thought of the 
way in which the minister had treated his apology, though 
he could not blame the clergyman. The captain knew 
well that he had no right to thrust his presence on Letty 
as he had done. 

He strolled through the Lovers’ Walk, but he did not 
see our beautiful heroine. He felt repaid for his long- 
stroll as he passed carelessly by Bethel Chapel; he could 
hear Letty’s voice ringing and clear on the silent night 
air, as she sung “ Strangers Yet.” 

The windows of the sitting-room of Bethel Parsonage 
were wide open, and the light of a lamp upon the table 
showed with perfect distinctness to any passer-by choosing 
to look at her from the street, Letty radiant in her simple 
white lawn dress and dark, shining hair, seated at the 
piano. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


35 


Captain Fanshavve listened to her song with keen appre- 
ciation. He saw Lydia, with her neat, prim cap and white 
apron, come mto the room and arrange the supper-table. 

As soon as Letty had finished her song he saw her leave 
the piano and walk over to a vase standing on a small 
table. She bent over the fiowers he had sent her that 
morning. 

He crept under the shadow of the chapel, and drew near 
to ’one of the open windows. 

He watched her graceful movements around the room 
with intense admiration. 

Letty had taken several roses out of the bouquet, and 
placed them in her belt. 

“ You ought to throw those flowers into the fire. Miss 
Letty. 

Lydia.”’ exclaimed Letty, blushing deeply. 

“ I mean what I say. How dare that captain send you 
flowers. If master knew who sent them to you, he would 
be very angry. He thinks Mrs. Bristow sent them, for 
she is always sending him something.” 

‘‘Lydia, don’t be foolish! Captain Fanshawe thought 
he offended me the other day, and he has sent me these 
flowers as a sort of peace-offering.” 

“ I don’t suppose there is any harm in the flowers, 
child; but Ralph would not like you to accept even a 
bunch of flowers from this stranger. ” 

“ Qh, bother what Ralph likes! Lydia, don’t preach. 
I am tired of being told this is wrong and that is wrong. 
There is no sin in these beautiful roses, I am sure.” 

“ I didn’t say there was. Miss Letty. I wish I could say 
as much for the man who sent them,” replied the house- 
keeper, as she left the apartment. 

After she had gone, Letty took the roses from the vase 
and looked wistfully at them. 

“ They are beautiful. He can not be a bad man,” she 
said aloud, as she kissed the flowers. 


36 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


“Miss Letty!’^ softly called Eustace, standing outside 
the low, open window. 

Letty started, and the crimson blood dyed her cheeks as 
she recognized the figure in the window. 

“ Miss Fletcher, I am afraid I startled you,^^ continued 
the gallant captain. 

“ Oh, Captain Fanshawe! is it you? Well, for a mo- 
ment I certainly did not know you,^^ answered Letty, 
drawing near to the window. 

“ Miss Letty, I wanted to see you so much that I could 
not resist the temptation of stealing a glimpse of you 
through the window. Will you not forgive me for my im- 
pulsive conduct the other day? Let me have your hand — 
so;^’ and he carried it to his lips. “You will forgive 
me?"’’ 

“ Yes, Captain Fanshawe, I do forgive you; but you 
must not come here any more./^ 

“ Why, Miss Letty ?^^ 

“ Because I have promised my father never to see you 
again. Hark! I hear his footstep; pray leave — if daddy 
finds you here, he will be very angry. 

“You will forgive me? I assure you I hadnH the 
slightest intention of insulting you.^^ 

She could only clasp his hand closely for an answer. 
“You must try to think kindly of me. Miss Letty. Good- 
night,^'’ said Captain Fanshawe, hastily, as he withdrew. 

Letty ’s heart beat fast with suppressed feeling. She felt 
she had made a promise that it would be hard to fulfill. 

“ Oh, why must I marry Ealph Kingsmill?^^ she asked, 
as she clasped her hands ‘together and leaned out of the 
window. 

She caught a glimpse of the gallant captain, who had 
instinctively turned to take a parting glance at Letty. 
He waved her a mute farewell and disappeared among 
the tombstones at the back of Bethel Chapel. 


SAIKTS AN1> SINNEKS. 


37 


CHAPTER V. 

SAINTS AND SINNERS. 

The day before the Sunday-school picnic, Jacob 
Fletcher brought a very unwelcome guest to Betliel Par- 
sonage in the person of Peter Greenacre. He was a poor, 
miserable creature, who was constantly to be found loiter- 
ing at the Royal Arms. If he earned any money, he never 
rested until he became intoxicated. The strangest part of 
Peter's conduct was, he never missed a sermon Mr. 
Fletcher preached; despite of his regular attendance at 
chapel, he still frequented the tavern. 

The minister never despaired of a sinner who showed the 
slightest inclination to reform, and he was particularly 
tolerant to Peter, whom he hoped might be eventually 
brought to repent of his evil ways. 

“ Come in, Peter, come in," said the kind-hearted 
preacher to the blackest sheep in his flock, as he opened 
the door for him. Peter walked slowly into the study, 
looking the picture of distress. His bloated face, shuffling 
gait, and unkempt appearance demonstrated his mode of 
life very plainly to the casual observer. 

Lydia saw the minister bringing him in, and the good 
woman's temper deserted her; she well knew how often 
Peter imposed on her benevolent master. She walked into 
the study, feeling that she would like to order out the dis- 
reputable guest. 

‘‘ Lydia, he has spent all his parish pay, and he is hun- 
gry," said Mr. Fletcher to Lydia, as if he thought he 
should apologize for bringing Peter home. 

‘‘Oh, yes; that is always the way. I'have seen you 
give him your own dinner and eat bread and cheese." 

“ Bread and cheese are not so bad, Lydia, when one has 
a good appetite. Give him something to eat," 


38 


SAIJ^TTS AND SINNERS. 


‘^He does not deserve it, sir/^ replied Lydia, tartly. 

“ I attend chapel regularly every Sunday, said Peter, 
with an injured air. 

“ And as regularly you go to the public-house, Peter, 
remarked the minister, sadly. 

‘‘ Mr. Fletcher, I am a monument of grace. 1 fall, but 
I try to rise again, Peter answered, thinking of the good 
meal which he knew awaited him. 

Lydia surveyed the man as he stood before her with a 
cold look of contempt; she was not at all deceived by his 
hypocritical manner. Peter always exhausted her patience 
before he had been in the house five minutes. 

‘‘ Humph! you are a monument of gin and water. 1 
would not give you a crust. Mr. Fletcher will feed you 
up, and you^ll live to be ninety,^^ said Lydia, severely. 

“ DonH be too hard on him, Lydia. He is not the only 
one who makes a comfortable living out of professing 
Christianity and going to church regularly. It shows what 
bad sermons I must preach. ” 

“Ho, sir; your sermons are of the right kind. If the 
sinners who listen to you would only heed yoii, we would 
have a congregation of saints instead of sinners. The ex- 
asperated housekeeper then turned to Peter, and said, 
grimly: “ Come along with me. The next time you come 
here sponging on the minister I will give you a glass of 
gin and water with poison in it.^^ 

Lydia marched out of the room with flashing eyes and 
erect head, feeling that her master was too much of a 
saint to understand the ways of a drunkard. Peter fol- 
lowed Lydia from the study, feeling rather uncomfortable; 
for he knew by experience how she detested his habits. 

“ Ah!'^ sighed the good minister, “ poor Peter is weak, 
but he may yek reform. He can not be altogether with- 
out a conscience, or he would not attend chapel as regu- 
larly as he does. 

Letty came into the room with a beautiful bouquet of 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


39 


flowers which she put in a vase and placed on her father^s 
desk. 

See, daddy, what I have brought you from Mrs. Bris- 
tow^s. She would insist upon gathering the finest roses she 
had.’" 

“ She is very kind, Letty, to think of me. How is she 
and poor little Alice?” 

“ Mrs. Bristow looks well, but she is worried about 
Alice, whose spine seems to grow worse. Annie told me 
her mother wanted to carry her sister to London to see 
Doctor Palmer, who has become quite celebrated through 
the cures he has made in such cases. Mrs. Bristow is 
afraid she can not afford to take Alice until she has settled 
her affairs.” 

“ It is a sad trial, Letty, that the Lord has sent her. I 
am afraid that Alice will never be well or able to walk 
again. Mr. Hoggard ought to settle matters without any 
delay. Her husband was a true Christian, and I miss him 
very much. Poor Bristow! we could not afford to spare 
him, but we must bow our heads to the Lord’s will,” said 
the minister, with a deep sigh. 

As they were speaking, a loud knock was heard at the 
hall door. 

“ Go and see what it is, my dear, for Lydia has gone to 
the kitchen with Peter Greenacre, to get him something 
to eat.” 

Letty left the room as her father spoke, and hastened to 
the door, where she found Lot Burden rather impatiently 
waiting to be admitted. 

“ Come in, Mr. Burden; you will find my father in the 
study.” 

Mr. Fletcher arose as Lot Burden entered the stud}^ and 
cordially shook hands with him; he was very much at- 
tached to the young man, who was one of the most ener- 
getic members of his congregation. 


40 


SAIN’TS AKD SINNERS. 


‘‘ I am pleased to see you. I was quite sorry I was not 
at home when you called the last time.^^ 

“ I thought 1 would drop in and see you on a little mat- 
ter of business. Mr. Fletcher, you know, sir, that Mr. 
Hoggard has raised my wages?^^ 

“ Very generous of him. Lot, for he was complaining 
about his business being so bad since poor Bristow^s 
death. 

“ That is strange. Business appears as brisk as ever,^^ 
remarked Lot. 

“ Mr. Hoggard would not have said so. Lot, if he had 
not believed he was making a correct statement. Times 
are dull.^^ 

“lam afraid so, sir, for our pew rents have fallen short 
five pounds this quarter. CanT we do something to make 
our chapel bring in a better income? If we could get 
some fashionable folks in the front pews. You know all 
the riff-raff comes to our church. 

“ Yes, Lot, I know it; they can not afford to buy their 
religion. There should be one place where the rich and 
the poor should meet on an equal footing, and that ought 
to be in the temple of the Lord. Our Divine Master chose 
the poor, not the rich, and as Christians we ought to fol- 
low His example. Pride is one of the greatest of all sins, 
and I fear we all have too much of it.^’ 

Lot sighed; he respected the good, saintly man whose 
daily life taught those under his care what true Chris- 
tianity meant. There was no more to be said about the 
pews, so he changed the subject of conversation by asking 
the minister if he had settled Mrs. Bristow^s affairs with 
Hoggard. 

“ No, Lot, not yet. Why do you ask?^^ 

“ I only wish to tell you not to let him have her share 
of the business at Crisp^s valuation. Get another man to 
take charge of the affair, and get as sharp a valuation put 
on the stock and fixtures as you can.^^ 


SAIl^TS AND SINNERS. 


41 


“ Why, Lot, what do you meaii?^^ Mr. Fletcher de- 
manded, rising from his chair. 

“ Just what I say. Hoggard is a hard man, but he pays 
twenty pounds a year pew rent, and it is not well to oflend 
him. Please do not say that I mentioned this matter to 
you, sir. It would not do, as 1 am in his employ.^' 

“ 1 will not. Lot; but you have made me feel very un- 
comfortable; but 1 thank you for poor Mrs. Bristow^s 
sake. 

“ I must go, sir, as I am expected back at the shop. 
Good-morning, Mr. Fletcher. 

The minister closed the door after his guest, and then 
walked the floor of his study, feeling very much disturbed 
mentally, as Samuel Hoggard was the senior deacon of 
Bethel Chapel. 

The deacon was a purse-proud, self-made man, who bore 
the name of being somewhat hard in money matters; 
nevertheless, he wg,s respected and looked up to in Down- 
ham. He and the late John Bristow had been partners in 
a large store, where everything appertaining to leather and 
findings could be purchased. They also had had an equal 
interest in a tannery, which was located in the suburbs of 
the town. When John Bristow died, he left as his exec- 
utors a lawyer by the name of George Martin and Mr. 
Fletcher. Unfortunately for Mrs. Bristow, Mr. Martin 
died three months after her husband, and the entire re- 
sponsibility of settling up his f riend^s estate fell on the 
minister. 

‘‘I am very glad that Lot happened to step in, or I 
should have signed the deed,"^ thought Jacob Fletcher, as 
he returned to his desk and commenced to write his ser- 
mon for the following Sunday. He remained oblivious to 
all outer sounds until Lydia's voice fell on his ear. 

“ Walk in, Mr. Hoggard; you will find Mr. Fletcher in 
the study." 

“ Good-morning, Mr. Fletcher. 1 am glad that I am 


42 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


fortunate enough to find you at home this fine morning. 
We are having delightful weather. 

“ Very. I hope it will continue, for 1 want the children 
to enjoy their picnic to-morrow. 

“Yes; we will have a fine day, I fancy. I am sorry I 
shall not be able to go with my folks, as 1 am going out of 
town this afternoon to look at a bit of ground that I want 
for a tannery. I suppose you have made up your mind to 
sign those papers? I have brought them with me, as I 
thought it would save you the trouble of coming down to 
my office. 

Mr.'' Hoggard took the papers from his pocket, and 
placed them on the table. The minister looked at the 
deacon a moment. He hesitated, knowing what a peculiar 
man he had to deal with and conciliate. Mr. Hoggard 
opened the papers, and said: 

“ 1 will read them over to you, if you like.^^ 

“ I can not sign those papers, Mr. Hoggard, until some 
one else places a valuation on your stock. 

The deacon looked at the minister in astonishment. He 
could not believe that he had heard aright the refusal to 
sign the papers; but he controlled his temper, as he was 
determined that the minister should do as he desired. 

“ Crisp is a good judge of such matters, and he has al- 
ready valued them; that ought to satisfy you.^^ 

“ If Orisp^s valuation is a fair one, why do you object to 
some one else placing a value on the property?” asked 
Mr. Fletcher, looking him in the face. 

“ 1 object, because it is a waste of time; besides, Mrs. 
Bristow is anxious to have the matter settled. Who has 
been putting the idea into your head that you ought to 
have some one else besides Crisp set a price on Mrs. Bris- 
tow^s share? I am astonished — positively astonished — at 
the number of unbusiness-like idiots there are in this 
world!” burst out Mr. Hoggard, impatiently, as the hot 
blood dyed his cheeks. 


SAIKTS AKD SIKKERS. 


43 


Mr. Fletcher looked at the deacon, and saw that he had 
offended him; but he knew that he had only done his duty. 

Oh! by the way, Mr. Fletcher, I forgot to make you a 
present last Christmas, but here are twenty pounds for 
you.^" 

Thank you, Mr. Hoggard,^^ said the minister, as he 
reluctantly took the crisp Bank of England notes. ‘‘ I 
should have been glad to have accepted your very gener- 
ous gift at any other time; but now I would feel as if I 
were taking a bribe; therefore, if you will be kind enough 
to put one of those notes in the poor-box and the other 
into the hospital-box, you will oblige me. 

Mr. Fletcher, as he spoke, laid the notes on the table 
and took the boxes from their stand in the corner of the 
room, and placed them beside the notes. 

Samuel Hoggard^s face flushed, and he could hardly re- 
strain himself from going off into one of his characteristic 
rages. 

“ Have I been your deacon all these years that you 
should now accuse me of offering you a bribe? You par- 
sons donT understand business. If you are fool enough to 
refuse twenty pounds, I will not offer it to you again 
and, instead of putting the money in the boxes which the 
minister had offered him, he put it in his own pocket. 
“I give charity when it suits me, Mr. Fletcher — not at 
any one^s suggestion, said the deacon, grimly, as he but- 
toned up his coat. 

“We are what are called professors of religion; let us 
live up to what we profess, remarked the minister, 
quietly. 

“ You are my minister, but I wonT be preached to on 
week-days, replied Mr. Hoggard. 

There was a painful pause, then Samuel Hoggard 
thought he would make another effort to gain his point. 

“ It seems very hard, Mr. Fletcher, that poor Mrs. Bris- 
tow will have to wait for us to have another valuation put 


44 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


on the property. Crisp is a shrewd man, and he has the 
name of being an honest one. 1 don't believe we could 
do better than go by the estimate which he has given us." 

“ If Mr. Crisp's valuation is correct, I will feel more 
satisfied in my own mind by having another man agree 
with him. You may be sure if there is a difference in your 
favor, I shall see that you have the advantage." . 

“ But, my dear sir, see all the time we lose; time is 
money in our days, you know. Come, be less scrupulous; 
sign the papers, and I'll increase my pew rent to fifty 
pounds a year." 

“No, Mr. Hoggard, I will abide by my decision. I can 
not sign the papers until there is a second valuation." 

“You beggarly, conscientious parson!" cried the dea- 
con, his eyes blazing with rage. 

“ You make a mistake," said the minister, with calm 
dignity; “I am so rich that I can not afford to stand by 
and see my dead friend's widow wronged." 

“ How dare you speak so to me? You shall pay for 
this, Jacob Fletcher! Now, mark me, the first slip you 
make, out of this you go; and at your time of life you will 
find it hard to obtain another living!" 

Letty, hearing the loud voice of the deacon raised in 
angry tones, rushed into the room and flung her arms 
around her father, as if to shield him from violence. 

“ What are you saying to my father?" 

“I did not send for you, my lady," the deacon an- 
swered; then, turning to the minister, he said, scornfully: 
“ I have half supported you for years, you ungrateful 
hypocrite! You would have been in the poor-house long 
ago but for me." 

“How dare you speak so to my father? Go!" cried 
Letty, flinging open the study door. She was superb in 
her anger. Out of her eyes flashed the scorn she felt for 
the man who had dared to insult her father. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 45 

Yes, miss, 1^11 go, and 1^11 have the satisfaction of 
seeing you come begging to my door yet.^-’ 

Never! Were I starving in the streets to-morrow, I 
would sooner beg a crust from poor, drunken Peter Green- 
acre,^^ replied Letty. 

“ Mark me, my words will come to pass, for your 
pretty face may yet bring you into trouble. You inherit 
your aunt^s beauty, and perhaps her fate also."’"’ 

“ Heaven forbid!’^ murmured the pious minister, as the 
enraged deacon slammed the door after him. 

“ How could you stand so calmly and hear that man talk 
without getting into a rage?^^ 

‘‘ My child, he is not worth it/^ quietly answered the 
clergyman, as he took up his pen and again attempted to 
concentrate his attention on the sermon wliich he was writ- 
ing for the following Sunday. 


OHAPTEE VI. 

DEACON HOGGARD. 

When Samuel Hoggard slammed the door of Bethel 
Parsonage after him, he walked home very wrathfully; 
and the deacon in a rage was not a pleasant sight to be- 
hold. As a rule, before people he commanded himself, 
but in the bosom of his family he gave full vent to his 
spleen. 

The idea that the clergyman should refuse to sign the 
papers was incomprehensible. He asked himself: 

“ Was it possible that the minister could suspect him of 
wishing to take advantage of his benefactor's widow?'^ 

He crossed the threshold of his handsome house just as 
the dinner-bell rang, and he walked into the dining-room 
with a dark scowl on his brow, sat down to table without 
addressing a pleasant word to any member of his house- 
hold. Mrs. Hoggard, who sat directly opposite to her 
husband, saw that something had occurred to disturb his 


4G 


SAINTS AND SINNEES, 


equanimity, and, like a wise woman, was silent. Poor 
woman, she had learned to dread the deacon^s wrath. 

Silence prevailed throughout the whole meal. No one 
dared to utter nven the most commonplace remark. 

Mrs. Hoggard, who was a meek little woman, trembled, 
for she detested a scene. Upon the deacon’s brow the 
ominous frown still remained; and the expression of 
Samuel Hoggard’s features was not improved thereby, and 
he was not noted for his handsome personal appearance. 
His features were coarse, and his massive forehead was 
fringed by a border of scant reddish hair mingled with sil- 
ver, which was brushed back over a bald spot on the back 
of his head. His dark-gray eyes were small and cunning; 
his nose and mouth large, though the cruel expression of 
the latter feature as well as his massive jaws were con- 
cealed by a heavy reddish mustache and beard streaked 
with gray. He was a tall, stout man with an apoplectic 
neck; in fact he was a typical Englishman of the middle 
class who prided himself upon being a self-made man. 

Mrs. Hoggard was the direct antithesis of her husband. 
She had been a remarkably pretty woman. Her features 
were small and delicate, but her dark-blue eyes had an im- 
ploring expression in them; her lips quivered nervously 
when her husband addressed her. She was several years 
younger than the deacon, though her white hair, which she 
wore in simple bands under her cap, gave her an aged ap- 
pearance. Her family connections were far more respect- 
able than those of her self-made husband. 

This fact, however, no one would ever have suspected 
from the high esteem in which the worthy deacon held his 
own kindred and the contempt he showed for all the mem- 
bers of his wife’s family. 

They had two daughters; one of them resembled her 
mother both in character and appearance. Annie Hog- 
gard was greatly beloved for her gentle disposition. She 
had soft, dove-like eyes, clear, delicate features, and ^golden 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


47 


hair which fell in curling rings over her brow. Her figure 
was small but well formed. She walked well' with a 
peculiar swaying grace like that of elm branches, which dis- 
tinguished her gait from that of all her companions. 

Florence Hoggard took after her father — in truth she 
was a handsome feminine likeness of the deacon. She was 
unusually tall for a girl, but there was a vigor and elas- 
ticity about- her unexpectedly combined with the soft 
curves and dimples of a child. The rounded arms visible 
through the closely fitting sleeves of her light muslin dress 
and the finely molded wrists below belonged to a young- 
goddess. But Florence was no goddess, only an English 
girl with a skin like a peach and violet-blue eyes. Her 
auburn hair was braided in a heavy knot at the back of 
her head, but little rings and roughened curly ends stood 
up around her forehead and on her temples as though 
defying restraint. Her mouth was large, but her teeth 
were white and even; her nose was what the French term 
retrousse. The deacon's eldest daughter was called a fine- 
looking girl. She was her father's favorite, having in- 
herited his fiery temper, and never hesitating to express 
her opinion upon any subject, nor did she think of the pain 
her thoughtless words inflicted. 

The day on which Mr. Fletcher had given his deacon a 
practical lesson in Christianity, his heart was consumed 
with rage, and he was like a pent-up volcano, ready to 
burst forth under the slightest provocation. The family 
perceived his ill-humor, and the dinner went on in gloomy 
silence until the dessert was placed on the table. 

The oppressive stillness at the table was at length broken 
by the sound of the door-bell announcing a caller. A 
maid-servant came in and announced that Mr. Crisp de- 
sired to see the master. 

Tell him to walk in here, Nancy; and set a place for 
him." 


48 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ Yes, sir/^ briefly replied Nancy, who expeditiously 
left the room and returned later with Mr. Crisp. 

This gentleman was a great friend of the deacon'’ s, and 
he was treated as a member of the family whenever he 
called. 

David Crisp was a small thin man, with a shrewd look 
ill his brown eyes, heightened by his parrot-shaped nose 
and small mouth. When the new - comer had shaken 
hands with his host and bowed to the ladies in his most 
ingratiating manner, Mr. Hoggard asked him if he would 
have some dinner. 

‘‘ Thank you, I have just dined,^^ replied Mi. Crisp, as 
he took the chair placed for him. “ But I will take a 
piece of your mince pie, Mrs. Hoggard, if you please. 
You make the best pies of any lady of my acquaintance. 

Poor nervous Mrs. Hoggard blushed and helped her 
guest to a generous • slice of the pie, which Nancy placed 
before him. 

“ What do you think has occurred?"''’ said the deacon. 

“lam sure 1 do not know,” answered Crisp. 

“ Mr. FJetcher has refused to sign those papers.” 

“You don’t say so!” 

“ And he insists upon having another valuation.” 

“ You astonish me, deacon,” said Mr. Crisp, pushing 
away his plate. 

“ 1 told you that Mr. Fletcher would give ns trouble. 
Parsons do not understand business.” 

David Crisp looked alarmed for a moment, then a 
gloomy expression settled on his countenance. He sighed, 
feeling apprehensive that to oblige the deacon he had 
placed himself in a very bad position. Crisp was the pro- 
prietor of a leather and findings shop in West Lynn. He 
bought all his stock from Samuel Hoggard, therefore the 
deacon had chosen him to put a valuation on the stock and 
fixtures of his store and the tannery, one half of which 
property belonged to his partner’s widow. 


SAINTS AND SIN NEKS. 49 

To oblige the deacon he had put the very lowest esti- 
mate oil the property. 

Hoggard knew well that he could not get another man 
to consider his interests so well, and this was the cause of 
his indignation at Mr. Fletcher^s refusing to sign the 
papers. 

‘‘ Wtiat a lot of idiots there are in the world! I was 
never so taken aback in my life as I was when the minister 
informed me that he would not sign the documents. I 
think he will find that he has made a mistake in making 
an enemy of me.^^ 

“ I supposed you and he were great friends?^^ 

“ Well, he always appeared to be very friendly toward 
me until this morning. I can not understand the mat- 
ter. 

‘‘ Perhaps some one has been talking to him about the 
valuation 

You are right. Crisp. Mr. Fletcher would never have 
thought of refusing to sign the documents if some one had 
not been talking to him. He is a very conscientious man, 
and I believe will do what he thinks is right; but a man 
need not be so very scrupulous if he wishes to make a suc- 
cessful business man.^^ 

“ No, sir; conscientious scruples doiiT pay.^^ 

“ Pshaw! what do parsons know about business?^^ 

Florence Hoggard now broke in by saying: 

“ I met Seth Williams this morning, and he told me 
that he saw Letty Fletcher walking in the Lover’s Walk 
with that swell captain that is visiting the Herberts.” 

Seth may have been mistaken,” remarked Annie Hog- 
gard. 

“ Nonsense; he could not have been mistaken. Minis- 
ter’s sons and daughters are no better than other people.” 

“No, Miss Florence; they have the name of turning out 
worse,” said Mr. Crisp. 

“ It runs in the blood,” remarked the deacon, coarsely. 


oO 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ Her aunt ran away with a married man. She is a hand- 
some girl, and her father had better keep a sharp eye on 
her.'’^ 

“ Letty is a dear, good girl/^ said Annie, with spirit. 

“ Answer for yourself, girl. Do not be so eager to de- 
fend your friend, for you know nothing about her virt- 
ues, sharply reprimanded the deacon. 

Annie was about to reply; but her mother gave her a 
warning look, and she remained silent. 

“ Kate, I paid that dry-goods bill to-day; and I hope 
you will try to teach our daughters in the future to be less 
extravagant. Why, in five years my clothes did not cost 
me so much. Just think. Crisp, of a hundred pounds for 
dry goods! It is enough to ruin any man to have three 
women to clothe!^'’ 

“Do you want us to look shabby asked Florence, 
blushing painfully. 

“Pshaw! you buy too many dresses altogether. You 
only want a dress to wear to chapel, and a couple of cot- 
ton gowns. I intend to put a stop to such extravagance; 
and if Western & Welles let you run up another bill Idl 
let them sue me before I pay it.^^ 

“ Doctor Western'’s daughters dress better than we do, 
and he is not so wealthy as you are, pa,^^ said. Florence, 
sharply. 

“ I dare say he is not, for he has a good-for-nothing, ex- 
travagant family to support. I worked for my money, 
and the doctor inherited his. He is a good physician, but 
he has to provide for a large number, and he will never be 
any better oS than he is now, nor will he be able to leave 
his children a fortune. I doiFt want his son, the young 
doctor, coming here so often. You girls must marry some 
one able to support you, or live and die old maids. I 
won^t have any idle sons-in-law living on my hard-earned 
money !^^ 

The hot blood crimsoned Annie’s cheek because she 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


51 


knew her father had uttered this tirade against the West- 
ern family for her benefit. Frank Western had been her 
sweetheart ever since they went to the village school to- 
gether. She felt ready to sink to the ground at her fa- 
therms remarks before Mr. Crisp. 

Florence, on the contrary, smiled; she knew that she 
would marry to please her father. Her eye was on a rich 
grocer who carried on a wholesale business in W^est Lynn. 
The future which her maiden fancy pictuied in glowing 
colors might never be realized. Very few girlish dreams 
ever are in this uncertain world. 

“ Come into the library with me. Crisp; I want to talk 
over some business matters with you,^^ said the deacon, 
walking abruptly out of the dining-room. 

Mr. Crisp arose from the dinner-table and followed his 
host. 

“ Father grows meaner every dayl’^ Florence exclaimed, 
as soon as her father and the guest had left the room. 

He will die a miser. I am going to have all the dresses 
I want or he shall have no peace, said the high-spirited 
girl as she in turn left the table. 

As soon as Annie found herself alone with her mother 
she burst into tears. 

“ Oh, mother; how can 1 tell Frank that he can not 
come here any moreP^m she asked, sobbing as if her heart 
would break. 

“ It is hard, Annie, answered the gentle woman. ‘‘ I 
feel sorry that your father has taken such a dislike to 
Frank, for 1 am very fond of him. 

“ It is outrageous Annie cried, dashing the tears from 
her eyes. ‘‘ Father dislikes him just because he is a poor 
doctor. He is a good man; and my father should respect 
him.'’^ 

‘‘ Perhaps he does, Annie; but he is afraid that he may 
have him for a son-in-law,^" replied Mrs. Hoggard, trying 


52- 


saints AND SINNERS. 


to smile. She kissed her daughter, who blushed deeply 
and ran away to hide her confusion. 

Mr. Hoggard ushered his friend into the library, seated 
him in an easy-chair, gave him a cigar, and lighted one for 
himself. They smoked in silence for nearly five minutes, 
wdien the deacon looked at David Crisp and said: 

‘‘ You must write out another inventory.'^ 

‘‘ You are right; for if any one acquainted with the busi- 
ness weie to see the first one they would know that I had 
put things down at a very low figure. You know I am 
anxious and willing to oblige you. 

“ 1 know you are; therefore I am willing to pay another 
hundred pounds rather than get you into trouble. You 
can put a very low market value on the stock, and that 
will not attract attention, even if another party examines 
the inventory. 

“ But suppose that Mr. Fletcher insists upon having a 
valuation made of the stock by some one else?’^ 

“ Even if he does, my friend, I shall find the means to 
compel him to sign the papers. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL PICNIC. 

It was a warm, bright day in early June on which the 
Bethel Sunday-school started for its annual picnic. The 
children were in the best of spirits. Their childish glee 
caused their parents and teachers to smile with amuse- 
ment. It was a merry party that got aboard the boat at 
Downham for a sail on the Ouse River to King’s Lynn. 

Letty Fletcher was so busily occupied with her Sunday- 
school class as to have very little leisure to think over the 
events of the past few days. The minister- had sent Ralph 
Kingsmill his daughter’s necklace inclosed in a letter, in- 
forming him that she had consented to become his wife. 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


53 


The minister expected his future so-n-in-law to return to 
Downham from London that evening. 

The good clergyman was pleased to think that his 
daughter’s future was no longer dubious. He admired 
Ealph, and knew his many good qualities, and was assured 
that his child would be happy as the wife of such a man. 

He augured that Letty must love him when she realized 
how noble he was. Mr. Fletcher was thankful that she 
had listened to reason, and no longer appeared to think of 
Captain Fanshawe. 

Poor Letty! She tried to be brave, to appear cheerful, 
but she was ill at ease in spite of herself. The image of 
the handsome officer had made a strange impression on 
her heart. She dreaded meeting Ealph Kingsmill, being 
well aware of the fact that her affection for him was not 
what it should be for the man she intended to wed. Be- 
sides the confusion in her thoughts, she was haunted by a 
nameless dread that she could neither account for nor con- 
trol. 

Great was her relief when the boat had nearly reached 
its destination, for she longed to be alone with her sad 
reveries and escape the scrutiny of her friends for a brief 
breathing spell. When the Bethel Sunday-school arrived 
at King’s Lynn they all left the boat after almost endless 
chatter and delay, and formed into a straggling procession, 
for Mr. Fletcher had promised to show the children some 
of the ruins of the ancient churches that still remained 
there. 

Perhaps few spots have greater claim to the notice of the 
topographer than the good old town of Lynn, and though 
the past century has removed many features that would 
have been gratifying to the lovers of antiquities, it is not 
difficult even now, with the aid of a little imagination, to 
recall the ancient warden to his post at the gates, the steel- 
clad sentinel to the watch-towers, and the cowled friars to 
their conventual chapels and churches, nor to fancy the 


54 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


shrill tones of the trumpet echoing round the guarded 
walls mingled with the sounds of convent bells sounding 
the matin or vesper chimes. 

There are a number of opinions regarding the antiquity 
of King^s Lynn. Camden thought that the town could 
lay no claims to any remote age, but supposed it to have 
risen from the ruins of old Lynn; but judging from the 
conjecture that its name was of Anglo-Saxon origin, that 
fact alone will claim for it an early date. 

There is every evidence that old Lynn had its fair share 
of churches and monasteries, for in it are to be found many 
ruins of these noble old relics of a by-gone period. 

The minister of Bethel Chapel loved to linger amid the 
antiquities of Lynn. He was a ripe scholar, and knew the 
history of all these old places, which he now related to that 
portion of his flock that accompanied their children to the 
picnic, until these good people, who were not quite so 
learned in antique lore, paused when they came to the 
picturesque gate-way of the Carmelites or White Friars. 
This ruin, constructed of red brick and stone, is like in 
this respect to most of the Lynn buildings of the fifteenth 
century. The gate-way is in a good state of preservation, 
but hardly a vestige remains of the noble old monastery. 

‘ ‘ See what poor mortals we are. Scarcely three centu- 
ries have passed away since these buildings stood-— and 
where are they now? The ashes of the donors have min- 
gled with their crumbling ruins, remarked Mr. Fletcher, 
sadly. 

'Letty saw that several of the party looked bored and out 
of patience, therefore she thought that she had better re- 
mind the minister of their bodily desires. 

“ Come, daddy, exclaimed she, in a low tone, as she 
laid her hand on her father’s arm. 

Several of the Sunday-school teachers who had heard her 
smiled significantly. 

Her quiet attempt to arouse the clergyman was a fail- 


SAmTS AND SINNERS. 


55 


ure. Mr. Fletcher was too completely absorbed in bis 
favorite occupation of explaining the ruins. Letty was 
averse to marring his. pleasure, but she knew it was her 
duty to break the thread of his discourse. She had waited 
a few moments after her first effort to gain his attention, 
but in vain, so she said, in sheer desperation: 

“ The children are tired and want their lunch, daddy. 

“ Why, bless me!’’ replied the minister, looking at his 
watch. “ It is nearly half past twelve o’clock. You must 
excuse my detaining you. Come, let us get the childfen 
to the woods as soon as possible.” 

“ You are very much interested in these ruins, Mr. 
Fletcher,” said Deacon Prabble. 

“ Very much so, deacon. I have often spent the day 
studying out the history of one particular spot. King’s 
Lynn has any number of interesting objects to the antiqua- 
rian. ” 

I never felt interested in the ruins before, because no 
one ever was kind enough to relate their history as you 
have done to-day. 1 have spent a very pleasant two hours; 
and if it were not for the children I should like to linger 
longer. ’ ’ 

“ So would I,” replied Mr. Fletcher, as he walked away 
from the ruined wall with Deacon Prabble. 

The walk was a long one, and the afternoon exceedingly 
hot. The summer fields lay steeped in sunshine with the 
scarlet poppies nodding in the light breeze. Tents and 
marquees dotted the greensward everywhere, and a brass 
band, hired for the occasion, discoursed sweet music beneath 
the umbrageous foliage. Archery, croquet, dancing, and 
other sports, in which the youthful and frivolous mind de- 
lights, were soon set in motion. Little girls in white, 
pink, blue, and lilac dotted the velvet sward like gorgeous 
peonies. Their rosy-cheeked brothers romped with them 
and made merry to their hearts’ content while they all 
longed for the announcepient of dinner. 


56 


SAINTS AND SIN NEKS. 


In the largest tent the teachers were busily engaged as- 
sorting a miscellaneous stock of provisions — cold chickens, 
beef-steak pie, ham sandwiches, buns, cakes, cans of milk 
for the children, and bottles of ale for their elders. As 
soon as the tables were arranged, the bell was rung, and 
the girls and boys came trooping in, making such a noise 
as only hungry children will make who are eager to satisfy 
their appetites.- ' 

The boys were seated at one table, the girls at another; 
and at a smaller one were placed seats for the parents, 
teachers, and the minister, who was assigned a seat at the 
head of the table. He stood and said grace in a low, dis- 
tinct voice, and the meal proceeded amid the merry 
laughter of the children and the cheerful conversation of 
the rest of the party. When it was all over, three of the 
teachers took charge of the debris. They washed the 
dishes, assorted the baskets, and repacked them. 

When Annie Hoggard, who was one of the assistants, 
had finished the portion of the task allotted to her, she sat 
down on a rude bench to eat a piece of cake. As she did 
so, she saw a poor, ragged boy who had followed the pic- 
nic-party, standing near her and looking wistfully at the 
rich morsel that she held in her hand. 

“ My little man, do you want a piece of cake?'^ asked 
the kind-hearted girl. 

“ Yes, miss; I am very hungry. 

“ Here, take this,^^ said Annie, handing him the slice 
she was eating. 

“Well done, Annie uttered a voice at her side. 
Turning, she saw Frank Western standing by her. 

“ Shall I get you another piece?’^ he asked, smiliug 
down on the uplifted face of the startled girl. 

“No, thank you, Frank. I could not eat another 
mouthful, it would choke me. Florence, have you got 
anything left for this child? He says he is hungry.-’" 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 57 

“ Oh, that is always the way! They all say so,^’ an- 
swered Florence, impatiently. 

“ Sister, please donH throw away what we can not use,^^ 
implored the impulsive girl, as she went to the table and 
hastily gathered up some sandwiches, a piece of pie, and 
some remains of a chicken, which she gave to the ragged 
urchin. 

“ Thank you, miss,^^ said the beggar, with sparkling 
eyes, as he took the food. 

Florence carelessly smiled at her sister^s action; she did 
not believe in encouraging vagabonds. 

“ That child was hungry.'’^ 

“ He really was, Annie, and you gave him a feast he 
has not tasted for many a long day. I saw his face light 
up joyfully when you handed him all those eatables, re- 
marked Mr. Fletcher, who was passing by with several 
boys at his heels. 

Mr. Fletcher, you and Annie would feed all the beg- 
gars for twenty miles around. 

“ I am afraid we would if we could, Miss Florence.'’^ 

“ Hon^t you think it encourages idleness? Father says 
such people would rather beg than work. 

“ He may be right. Miss Florence. Some of them are 
very lazy, I admit; but it is better to be on the side of 
mercy than to send away one deserving person unfed. 

“ Bravo!^^ cried Dr. Western; ^‘that is my idea, Mr. 
Fletcher.-’^ 

‘‘ I know it, my friend. You never accept a fee from a 
poor person. 

“ Doctor Western has all the poor of Downham to at- 
tend on that account. That is one reason why the wealthy 
people will not employ him. I heard a lady say last week 
she should be afraid to go into your office, doctor.’^ 

Why, Miss Florence ?^^ 

“ Because she was afraid of contagion,^’ replied Flor- 


ence. 


58 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


‘‘Whoever she waS;, she had notone atom of common 
sense/^ said Annie, valiantly; she felt mortified that her 
sister should repeat such an idle bit of gossip. 

“ Never mind what our neighbors say or think, doctor. 
Do your duty as bravely as you are now doing it, and you 
will lay up a treasure in the Master’s kingdom which is 
better and more enduring than all earthly treasures,” said 
the minister, as he was dragged away by the impatient 
children who wanted him for their playmate. 

“ Come here, Annie, and help me pack these dishes,” 
said Miss Hoggard, who was anxious to prevent her sister 
enjoying a Ute-a-Ute with the young doctor. Annie did 
as Florence had desired without making any further re- 
marks. Dr. Western waited until she had finished, and 
then asked her to take a walk with him. Annie con- 
sented, and as she strolled off with the physician, Florence 
whispered in her ear; 

“ You had better tell Frank that father wishes him to 
discontinue paying you such marked attention. ” 

“ Oh! Florence, I can not hurt his feelings,” was Annie’s 
reply, as she hastened to join her impatient lover. 

This day of the picnic was destined to prove an eventful 
one to more than one pair of lovers. 

Captain Fanshawe, notwithstanding the minister’s sum- 
mary dismissal, was determined to see Letty once more be- 
fore he left the neighborhood. On the morning of the 
picnic, accompanied by his valet, he rowed to King’s 
Lynn, which he reached a few hours after the boat con- 
taining the picnic- party had landed. He fastened the boat 
to the dock, turned to his man, and said : 

“ Leeson, I want you to go and hunt up the Bethel Sun- 
day-school party. They have come here to spend the day. 
As soon as you have discovered their whereabouts return 
and let me know the exact location. ” 

Leeson touched his hat and departed on his errand, mut- 
tering: 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


59 


“ Sunday-school ain^ much in his way. 1 wonder whafc 
his game is? I suppose he wants to see the minister's 
daughter. He is always taking a fancy to some pretty 
face. He is a strange man.^^ 

After several inquiries regarding the road the picnic- 
party had taken, Leeson had very little difficulty in follow- 
ing them, and, coming to the woods, saw the dinner in 
progress. He walked back to where he had left the cap- 
tain. 

“ Weil, did you find them?^^ asked Fanshawe, looking 
up at Leeson as he took in his fishing-line. 

“ Yes, sir. All of the party are at dinner in the woods 
about three miles from here. 1 suppose they intend to re- 
main there, as there are a number of tents on the ground. 

‘‘ A sort of camp-meeting affak, I suppose. I have seen ‘ 
them in America; but there they stopped at the same place 
for several days. I suppose this is something of the sort 
over here. I have never been to one of them in England. 
Come, take me to the place. 

You will find it very hot walking. 

“ Pshaw! you forget that 1 have been in India. I can 
stand any amount of heat."’"’ 

Leeson grimly smiled. He disliked the idea of retracing 
his steps in the hot sun, but as the captain did not intend 
to ride, Leeson was obliged to accompany him. 

Eustace Fanshawe followed Leeson in quest of Letty 
Fletcher, being resolved to see her, cost what it might. 

There was no one to warn the minister's daughter of his 
approach. It seemed as if Fate were destined to bring them 
together. 

Letty was feeling very much fatigued after her day^s 
labor. She had faithfully waited on her class during din- 
ner and otherwise busied herself in attending to the chil- 
dren’s wants. One of the ladies of the congregation, see- 
ing how tired she looked, offered to take her place until 
she had obtained a little rest. Letty thankfully accepted 


60 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


lier friend^s offer. Her head had commenced to ache, so 
she walked away from the noisy group of children to a 
lonely portion of the woods, and sat down on the stump of 
a tree. Captain Fanshawe, who had now been prowling 
around some time, spied her as she seated herself. Hastily 
tearing a leaf out of his note-book, he wrote a few lines 
and gave it to Leeson, who looked at his master a moment, 
silently waiting for his instructions. 

“ Leeson, do you see that young lady dressed in blue 
yonder?’^ 

“ Yes, sir.-’^ 

“ Take her that note. DonT let any one see you give 
it to her. Get behind a tree and watch your opportunity.'’^ 

Leeson touched his hat and went on. Captain Paii- 
shawe eagerly watched his^ man until he saw him give Letty 
the note. 

Bravo!^^ he exclaimed, under his breath. “ Leeson 
did that capitally. '’ 

The gallant captain’s face was flushed, and his eyes 
sparkled with exultation at the success of his stratagem. 
He muttered: 

“ I can not give her up. She is too charming. Give 
her up? — not I. When a man has been so badly treated 
as 1 by Fate and women — If I had met Letty Fletcher 
eight years ago, instead of Clara Baddies, I might have 
been a better man. 1 suppose I ought to screw up the 
half-farthing of virtue I have left, and leave Letty in 
peace; but I can not — she has fairly bewitched me.” 

He saw Leeson walk away, and his face grew crimson 
with anger and mortification as he perceived Letty tear up 
his note and then disappear in another direction. 

An irresistible impulse which he did not attempt to con- 
trol seized him to follow her. With a few strides he 
reached her side and exclaimed: 

“Letty!” 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. • 61 

‘"How dare you. Captain Pansha we asked Letty, 
casting a scornful glance at the handsome man beside her. 

“ I must see you, Letty, for a moment. I have been 
waiting for hours below the ferry to get a glimpse of you. 
I can not leave Downham without a parting interview. ” 

“ I have no right to listen to you,"*^ answered the young 
girl, hastily walking away as she saw her father approach- 
ing, surounded by a troop of children. 

The captain also saw the minister, and discreetly hid 
himself behind a large tree. He was not anxious to be 
recognized by Mr. Fletcher, because he had very strong 
reasons to remember their last interview. 


CHAPTER VIll. 

LETTY FLETCHER’S PERIL. 

“ Be my donkey, Mr. Fletcher?” asked a little boy with 
red, rosy cheeks and sparkling hazel eyes. 

“ No, he promised to be mine!” cried a golden-haired, 
blue-eyed darling of six summers to the boy who stood be- 
side him. 

“1 have been everybody’s, donkey. I have got more 
kicks than ha’pence, my children,” replied the minister, 
as he gently released the clinging arms of a curly-haired 
little girl he had been carrying on his back. 

“Kiss me, Mr. Fletcher,” lisped the little one, as he 
placed her on the ground. The clergyman kissed the little 
child, as she had bade him, and sat down to rest himself 
after his romp with the children. 

“ Mr. Fletcher, 1 like you ever so much better on week- 
days than 1 do on Sundays,” said the tallest boy of the 
group that was clustered around the clergyman’s knee. 

“Why, my little man?” questioned the kind-hearted 
man, as he patted the little chatter-box on the head. 

‘ ‘ Because on week-days you give us apples and cakes, 
tell us nice stories, and you are ever so good. On Sun- 


62 


SATKTS AKD SINNERS. 


days, you preach sermons so long/^ said the child, open- 
ing out his arms to their extreme length. 

The minister laughed at the child^s candor, and replied: 

“ 1 hope you will like me better on Sundays, Charlie, 
when you are older and can understand the sermons I 
preach. Mr. Fletcher now drew out his watch and saw 
it was much later than he had supposed, and he rose up to 

go- 

“ Don’t go yet, Mr. Fletcher,” cried the children in a 
chorus. 

“ But I must; it is later than I thought. See, the sun 
is already setting. ” 

The children hung on to the skirts of his coat, as if they 
were unwilling to part from him. Seeing this, he put his 
hand in his pocket and found several red apples, which he 
flung among the girls and boys. A merry scramble en- 
sued; while Mr. Fletcher stood laughing at his little com- 
rades, he felt a small hand steal into the back pocket of 
his coat. He quickly turned his head, and caught the 
youngest child of the party trying to help herself to the 
only remaining apple he had left. 

“ Are you trying to pick my pocket, Lilly?” 

“ Me want an apple, too,” said the five-year-old girl. 

“You little Eve, you shall have it.” The minister 
gave her the apple, and took a kiss in payment; and the 
child took her brother’s hand, as the bell was now warning 
the children to hurry. 

“ There is the bell; run away! they are breaking up, 
and you will all have to sleep in the woods,” said Mr. 
Fletcher. 

“ Ain’t you coming with us, Mr. Fletcher?” 

“No, 1 am not going to return by the boat. Run, or 
you will be left.” 

As the children departed, the minister saw his daughter 
coming from the dense foliage of the woods. She had 
broken away from Captain Fanshawe, when she saw the 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


63 


children leave her father, as if she were conscience- 
stricken for listening a brief moment to Eustace Fan- 
shawe^s suit. 

“ Daddy, let me go home with 3 ’ou?^’ 

‘‘No, my dear, you can not do so. I promised to ride 
home with Deacon Drabble; he wants to talk about some 
private business matters. 

“ Please take me with you, daddy 

“ I can not, Letty; there wouldn^t be room for you in 
the wagon; besides, I may not get home until late, and 
you know Ralph will be sure to come over to our house on 
his arrival from London. Give him a warm welcome, 
Letty, he deserves it. There now, run along, or you will 
be left;^’ and the minister waved his hand to his daughter 
as she turned to rejoin the Sunday-school class. 

Letty did not think of the captain, as she darted swiftly 
down the path to the portion of the woods where she had 
left her friends, but they had already gone. Then she 
hastened to the road that led to the ferry, hoping to reach 
her destination before the boat had left the dock. She was 
just in time to see it as it sailed toward Downham, and 
when she reached the dock the boat was too far away for 
the picnic-party to see the figure standing on the dock 
looking in despair after the fast-receding boat. 

Letty turned around in her perplexity, and was aston- 
ished to find Captain Fanshawe at her side. He had fol- 
lowed her to the dock without making her aware of his 
presence. 

“ You here?^^ she ejaculated. 

“ Yes, Letty, 1 am. I see the picnic-party has returned 
without you."’^ 

“ They did not miss me,^^ said Letty, angrily. 

“ Letty, what makes you treat me so coldly 

“ Because I dare not do otherwise. 

“ What do you mean?'" asked Captain Fanshawe, in 
surprise. 


64 SAINTS AKi) SINNERS. 

“ I have promised to become Ralph Kingsmiirs wiie/^ 
stammered Letty. 

“ Good girl!’^ cried Eustace. “ You have promised to 
marry one man when you love another, to please your.fa- 
ther."’^ 

“ How dare you speak so to me? What have I done to 
forfeit your respect?’’ demanded Letty, hotly. 

“ Pardon me, Letty. I was wrong. You are the purest 
and sweetest girl I have met in many a long year. I am 
not what is called a good man; but if I had won your love 
you could have made me anything you desired. Oh! I 
thought you loved me. ” 

Our heroine was silent. Her cheeks were dj^ed with 
crimson blushes. 

“ You love me, Letty. Tell me once that you love me. 
Say, ‘ Eustace, 1 love you.’ Give me that crumb of com- 
fort to knowHhat you care for me. The knowledge that 
you have thought well of me will do much toward healing 
my wounded heart when we are separated. ” 

“Oh! Eustace, you know I care for you. You saved 
my life, and no girl can be indififeret to her preserver,” 
came her reply, in a low, tremulous voice. 

“ My dear girl, you have made me happy,” said the 
captain, warmly, as he took her hand and kissed it; then 
they were both silent until Letty asked: 

“ How am 1 going to get home? My father will be 
very anxious about me. It was unfortunate that I missed 
the boat; I must have walked very slowly to do so. Lydia 
will have supper waiting for me, and will be very angry.” 

“ Never mind Lydia. A scolding from her will not be 
a novelty, 1 imagine. Fortunately I have my boat here, 
and I can row you up to the junction. It will be far 
pleasanter than walking. We can easily take a train to 
Downham. Come, it is for the last time. We may never 
meet again.” 

Letty Fletcher was silent. A dim presentiment of im- 


. SAINTS AKD SINNERS. 65 

pending evil took possession of her, and she shivered as if 
struck with an ague chill. 

“Are you ill, Lettyr^^ inquired her companion, anx- 
iously. 

“ No; I feel somewhat chilly. I left my wrap aboard 
the boat. 

“ Come with me. I have a wrap and some rugs in the 
boat, and I can make you comfortable.^^ 

But still Letty hesitated. 

“ Surely you will trust me?^^ questioned the captain. 

“ I will,^^ replied Letty, conquering her nervousness. 

Captain Fanshawe escorted her to his boat and ordered 
the astonished Leeson to row to the railway station at the 
other end of the town. 

“We are going to return to Downham by train, as Miss 
Fletcher, by accident, was left behind by the boat.^^ 

Having given Leeson this brief explanation. Captain 
Fanshawe exerted himself to amuse Letty, who was sur- 
prised when the boat arrived at the pier nearest the rail- 
way station, he had made himself so agreeable. After the 
captain had conducted Letty to the ladies’ waiting-room, 
he strolled out upon the platform to find Leeson, as he 
desired to purchase the tickets. A porter was busy check- 
ing some trunks, so the captain asked him when the train 
for Downham left. 

“ In about twenty minutes, sir. The London express 
has to go out first. Your train is the second that comes 
up to the platform. Don’t make a mistake, and get into 
the first one, or you will go to London.” 

“ Thanks;” and the captain slipped a half-crown into 
the man’s hand. He caught a glimpse of his valet at the 
other end of the platform and beckoned to him. 

“ Leeson, go to the ticket-office and purchase two first- 
class tickets for Downham. Hurry back, as I intend to 
take the London express, which is the first train that leaves 
the station. ” i 


66 


SAINTS AND SINNEBS. 


‘‘ I do not quite understand you, sir. If you are going 
to London, why do you wish me to purchase tickets for 
Downham?^" 

“ I mean exactly what I said. Go and get the tickets for 
Downham, and remember, when we arrive in London, that 
Miss Fletcher is my wife.'’^ 

1 understand you now, sir,^^ replied Leeson, who was 
astonished at his master’s orders; but he was too well- 
trained a servant to let Captain Fanshawe see his perplex- 
ity. 

Leeson, if you do not bungle matters it will be twenty 
pounds in your pocket.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” replied Leeson, who touched his hat 
and went off in the direction of the ticket-oflSce. As he 
entered the waiting-room, two persons were standing near 
the door talking— one of them was Lot Burden, and the 
other Deacon Hoggard. Lot had been unable to attend 
the picnic, owing to some business matters that required 
his attention. He knew Leeson slightly, and as the latter 
came in Lot caught a glimpse of his face, and thought it 
was a familiar one. 

Samuel Hoggard was in a confidential mood. He felt 
very complacent, thinking that his foreman took him for a 
shrewd man. His vanity was flattered. 

‘‘You are right. Lot. I would not be where I am to- 
day if I had not been sharp. You know the Scriptures 
say if a man be diligent in his business, he shall stand be- 
fore kings. By the way. Lot, some one must have been 
putting queer notions into Fletcher’s head.” 

“ I wonder who it is?” asked Lot Burden, innocently. 

, “I can not imagine. You know he is as green as grass 
regarding business affairs; but he surprised me yesterday.” 

“ In what way, sir?” 

“ He wants a new valuation made upon my stock and 
fixtures; he is not satisfied with that of Crisp’s; just as if 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


67 


I wanted to cheat Mrs. Bristow! You have not been saying 
anything to him, have you?^^ 

‘‘ You ought to know me better, sir."” 

“ So I ought. You have been with me five years, and 
you would hardly dare to talk to the minister behind my 
back of my business affairs. You know me. Lot. When 
I get my back up I am a nasty customer. 

“ I know you are, sir,^^ replied the young man, meekly. 

See here,. Lot, you must collect fifteen pounds from 
the railway company for damages. Those last hides were 
not delivered to us in a good condition. 

‘‘ Why, sir, I did not see that they were damaged, said 
Lot, looking at the deacon as if he did not comprehend 
him. 

We will claim damages. It is no harm to rob a rail- 
way company; and we seldom do obtain a fair amount of 
damages when our goods have been ruined. I always 
look out to get even with them. That’s business. They 
are always imposing on the public; and it does me good to 
get square with them. Did you send out those circulars?” 

“ I did, sir. I believe I mailed about five thousand. 
Business energy, push, and advertising will do much to- 
ward working up a business. You must push your way 
through if you want to succeed. ” 

“ Well, I ought to be satisfied. Lot, when 1 think how I 
have prospered. ” 

“ Indeed you ought, sir.” 

“ You stick to me. Lot, and ITl make a man out of 
you,” said the deacon, as he hastened toward the ticket- 
office to purchase a ticket for Downham. 

“ Yes, you will make me as great a liar and thief as 
yourself. I have fifteen pounds in the penny savings- 
bank, but I’ll draw it out to-morrow. Hoggard is getting 
too many irons in the fire; some of them will get cold, or I 
am very much mistaken. Oh, he is a sly fox!” muttered 
Lot as he thought of his employer’s methods of business. 


68 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


Leeson just then came hurrying from the ticket-oflSce 
and met Lot face to face. The latter had just seen Letty 
Lietcher and Captain Fanshawe on the other side of the 
platform. 

Lot was so astonished that he could scarcely believe that 
it really was the minister’s daughter. 

“ Leeson, where is your master taking Miss Letty?” 

“ To Downham. Miss Fletcher accidentally missed the 
boat of the picnic-party,” answered the valet, showing Lot 
the two tickets for Downham which he had purchased, but 
he did not show him the second-class ticket for London he 
had purchased for himself. 

After he had quieted Lot’s suspicions, Leeson joined his 
master and gave him the tickets just as the guard called 
out the London train. 

The deacon, having bought his ticket, strolled out on 
the platform as the train for London left the station. 

“ I thought 1 saw Fletcher’s girl getting into a first- 
class carriage a little while ago with that officer who is 
visiting the Herberts?” 

“ You must be mistaken, sir. Miss Letty would not be 
traveling first - class; besides, she was with the picnic- 
party,” replied Lot, who had seen the minister’s daughter 
get into the carriage, but he wished the deacon to believe 
it was not Letty. 

“ 1 forgot all about the Sunday-school picnic. It must 
have been some one else who resembled her. See that 
those hides are shipped before you return to Downham, 
and meet me at the tannery to-morrow morning at eight 
o’clock sharp.” 

“ Yes, sir,” answered Lot, shivering. He felt that he 
could hardly trust himself to speak, his heart was so full. 

Good-bye, Lot. There is my train, I must be off;” 
and the deacon entered a first-class carriage with a strange 
smile lurking around the corners of his mouth. 

‘‘ Good heavens!” cried Lot, clasping his hands. “ I 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


69 


could not have been mistaken. It was Miss Letty whom I 
saw. She has run away with that rascal Captain Fan- 
shawe. It will break her poor father's heart. Our poor 
minister will never hold his head up again. Leeson lied 
to me. Why did he purchase tickets for Downham? 
There's a mystery somewhere. Oh, how can I tell the 
minister?" groaned the honest fellow, with tears in his 
eyes. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE minister's DESPAIR. 

The day of the picnic had been a weary one for the 
minister's housekeeper. Poor Lydia! She was tired after 
attending to her household duties, visiting two miserable 
invalids who lived two miles apart. She had carried soup, 
custards, and jellies to them at the minister's request. He 
did not wish those who were dependent upon his charity to 
be neglected on the day when the rest of his parishioners 
were enjoying themselves. 

The clock in the belfry of Bethel Chapel had struck 
eight, but neither the minister nor his daughter had made 
an appearance. Lydia began to feel anxious. She heard 
a footstep coming up the garden-walk, and with a sigh of 
relief opened the front door for the clergyman, and was 
surprised to see that he carried a market basket on his 
arm. 

Mr. Fletcher entered the study and placed his basket on 
a chair, then looked around the room; not seeing his 
daughter, he asked: 

‘‘ Where is Letty?" 

“ She has not returned yet, sir." 

I suppose she is gossiping with some of the neighbors. 
Young folks never think of the time they consume in talk- 
ing nonsense. Eh, Lydia?" 

“ Yes, sir. Downham has more idle gossips than any 


70 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


other village of its size in England/^ replied Lydia, 
severely. 

‘‘ Deal gently with our friends, Lydia. We are all 
prone to indulge in a little gossip sometimes. 

Lydia made no reply; she was too curious to know the 
contents of the basket, for her master seldom bought any- 
thing for the household. The minister, who saw her look 
of inquiry, said: 

‘‘ Lydia, I have been extravagant. See what a fine bird 
1 have brought you/^ taking a good-sized chicken out of 
the basket and handing it to her. 

Lydia looked suspiciously at his purchase- She first 
felt one of the wings, then the other, as she remarked: 

“ It will take a lot of basting to make her tender. 

“ 1 suppose Ralph felt rejoiced when he received the 
good news,^'’ remarked Mr. Fletcher, with a smile. 

“ Good news!^'’ exclaimed Lydia, with a curious expres- 
sion on her face as if she doubted whether the news was 
really to be considered good or otherwise. 

Yes, Lydia, 1 call it good news when two young peo- 
ple fall in love with each other and make up their minds 
to be married. I always say to young people, ‘ Marry in 
the morning of life; do not wait till the sun is going down. 
Let your children grow up around you before the autumn 
of your life. ^ There is altogether too much prudence dis- 
played regarding matrimony in our days.'^ 

‘‘I suppose you would have folks marry whether they 
could support a family or not. Mr. Fletcher, it is not 
quite so easy to go to housekeeping as you imagine,^’ an- 
swered Lydia, tartly. 

“ 1 suppose that is why you keep Lot Burden at such a 
distance, Lydia. 

‘‘ I have told him to find a wife elsewhere, sir. 1 do not 
care about leaving you yet awhile. I suppose we will be 
pestered to death by Ralph KingsmilFs calls. Ah, I have 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 71 

seen enough of young menu’s courting. It turns a house 
topsy-turvy. 

‘ ‘ W ell, we will see something of him, Lydia, though I 
do not think they will get mamed for another year or so.^’ 

“ Well, I shall be sorry when Miss Letty leaves us; but 
I suppose it is natural that she should get married,'’^ sighed 
the faithful housekeeper. 

“ Lydia, it strikes me that one chicken won^t go far 
among four hungry people; so please make us one of your 
nice custard puddings. 

“ It will be short commons for the rest of the week, sir. 
I suppose you want this creature stuffed?’^ 

“ Yes, Lydia, and plenty of bread sauce. 

“ She ain^t no chicken, she ain^t,^^ remarked Lydia, 
walking toward the door. 

“ Lydia, pray respect old age.^^ 

“ I will, sir; but please do not buy any more poultry. 
Leave that to me, for you are not a judge of chickens. 

‘‘ Well, I suppose I am not, Lydia. I could not help 
purchasing that chicken. I knew that we did not have any- 
thing in the house for supper. This is the first time that 
Ealph comes here as my future son-in-law, therefore I 
could not help being a little extravagant,^^ said the minis- 
ter, as if apologizing to the careful housekeeper for his 
unusual expenditure. 

“ You know best, sir. 

“ I wish Letty would return. 1 wonder what has de- 
tained her?^' asked the minister. 

‘‘ I do not know, sir. Shall I take. the basket.?^’^ 

‘‘You had better,^^ replied her master as he took the 
bouquet of fine roses out of the basket. 

“ What beautiful flowers!^^ exclaimed Lydia. 

“ I gathered them in Mrs. Bristow’s garden as I came 
home, to deck our little feast. Letty is so fond of flowers. 
Here is a bottle of wine which Deacon Prabble assured me 
is first-class. If the chicken is tough the wine will wash it 


72 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


down. The last time I had a bottle of wine was when I 
christened Mr. Smith's twins." 

“ Yes, I remember. It was a bottle of old port. Mr. 
Smith sent it to you after the christening instead of giving 
you a good Bank of England note — as he had a right to 
do. I must go and get this creature ready, or we will 
have no supper to-night," said Lydia as she hastily left the 
room. 

While the clergyman was indulging in happy anticipa- 
tions, Lot Burden suddenly entered the study through one 
of the garden windows. The young man's face was very 
pale, and he appeared to be unusually excited. 

“ Where is Miss Letty?" he asked, breathlessly. 

“ Oh, she returned by the boat with the children; she 
has not got home yet. I wonder what detains her?" 

“ Great heavens!" cried Lot, “ I was not mistaken. I 
have bad news, Mr. Fletcher; and I am sorry that the un- 
pleasant duty of telling you has fallen upon me." 

Speak, Lot. What is it? Letty, she is dead! Speak, 
man, speak!" cried the unhappy father, with clasped 
hands. 

“ She has eloped with Captain Fanshawe. I thought I 
might be mistaken —that it was some one else who resem- 
bled her that got into the London express. I saw the 
tickets that Leeson — Captain Fanshawe's man — purchased, 
for I stopped him and asked where his master was taking 
Miss Letty. The scoundrel showed me two first-class 
tickets for Downham for which he had just paid. He said 
Miss Letty had missed the boat, and was going to return 
by train." 

“ Oh, why did I not take her with me? She begged me 
to. She might have been afraid of herself. Poor child, I 
saw him kiss her, she did not repulse him. It must be 
true," said Mr. Fletcher, as great tears rolled down his 
cheeks. There was a painful pause. Lot Burden was 
silent'; he could offer no consolation to the stricken man. 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


73 


The minister walked the floor wringing his hands. 

Suddenly he turned to Lot. ‘‘ You saw them go? you 
saw a man rob me of my daughter? Why did you not 
stop him?^^ asked Mr. Fletcher, deeply agitated. 

“ I told you, sir, that Leeson, his man, assured me that 
his master was bringing Miss Letty back to Downham. I 
was shocked when I saw them get into the London train. 
It was too late to stop them then. 

“ 1 must telegraph to her at once,^^ cried the minister. 

‘^Impossible. You have no address; besides, the tele- 
graph office is closed. 

“ Then I must follow them,^^ said the minister, catch- 
ing up a light overcoat which was on a chair and with 
trembling hands endeavored to put it on. 

‘ ‘ There is not another train until three o^clock in the 
morning, Mr. Fletcher. You would not be able to find 
them in London. You havenT the slightest idea where 
they have gone!” 

“ Oh, if I could Only reach, her to-night! My God! if I 
could but whisper one word in her ear I might save her 
yet!” moaned the agonized father as he caught hold of a 
chair to steady himself; everything in the room was com- 
mencing to swim before his eyes. 

Lot Burden watched the minister with a blanched face. 
ISIever before had he seen his pastor betray agitation so 
powerful. Lot almost feared that the minister's reason 
was tottering. He walked to the door, turned back, 
wavered, and stood still, not seeming to know what he was 
doing. Probably the poor man did not. Then he took 
out his pocket-handkerchief, wiped his face, and returned 
the handkerchief to his pocket, his hands trembling equally 
with his livid lips. 

“Our good name is gone. You wonT mention this to 
any one. Lot?” 

“ Hot to a living soul, sir. No one else knows it, I am 


74 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


sure; and I would rather cut out my tongue than mention 
it.^^ 

‘‘ T know you won^t. Lot. Here 1 stand, and can not 
do anything to save her. I am powerless. She is gone, 
and I am entirely alone. My darling! My child! Would 
to Heaven that she had died in her infancy when she was 
an innocent child, and then I would have been sure that 
she was safe in our Father^s kingdom. 

How many parents have thought and said likewise! 

Mr. Fletcher was a true earnest Christian. He had 
never been known to murmur against a decree of Provi- 
dence and had borne all his misfortunes with resignation 
until this terrible moment when he learned his child had 
deserted him. He feared his darling daughter had eloped 
with a man who was quite capable of dishonoring her, and 
the horrible suspicion was crushing down his spirit more 
and more every moment. 

Lot was yearning to comfort him, but knew not how to 
do it. 

Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Fletcher?” he 
at last found voice to say. “ If I can, command me.” 

‘‘No, Lot. I think I can bear it best alone,” answered 
the minister in a very low voice. 

“ Good - night, Mr. Fletcher. You don’t .know how 
sorry I am to bring you such bad news. ” 

“ Good-night, Lot,” was all the clergyman could an- 
swer. 

Thus dismissed. Lot Burden left the house as he had 
entered it — through the low open window of the study. 
He pulled his hat far down over his eyes to conceal his 
emotion, and hurried home as fast as possible, feeling his 
confidence utterly shaken in poor human nature. He had 
looked upon Letty Fletcher as one of the purest and noblest 
of her sex. 

Alas! the events of that day had proved the very con- 


SAIKTS AKB SINKERS. 75 

trary, thought the young man, as he strode onward in a 
very bitter mood. 

When the minister found himself alone he walked the 
floor, vainly trying to master his agitation. On a chair 
was a garden-hat belonging to Letty. The deserted parent 
took it up sadly, kissed it, and burst into tears— tears 
wrung from a father's despairing heart. With an im- 
mense effort of his will he succeeded in subduing the first 
paroxysm of his anguish. He fell on his knees and fer- 
vently prayed to his Merciful Father to protect his child. 
How long or how earnestly he invoked the Divine mercy 
he knew not, for he prayed on until consciousness forsook 
him and he lay insensible on the floor. 

Lydia had cooked the supper; it was all ready to serve 
when she heard Ealph Kingsmill's knock at the door. 

He entered the rectory smiling. 

“ Good-evening, Lydia," he said to the housekeeper, 
who had quickly answered the summons. 

“ Good-evening, Mr. Kingsmill; you will find the min- 
ister in the study. " 

‘‘ Thank you, Lydia. I know the way," said Ealph. 

The room was dimly lighted by a solitary candle that 
stood on the mantel. When Ealph opened the door he 
saw no sign of Letty or the minister until he came to the 
center of the floor, when he stumbled over the prostrate 
form of Mr. Fletcher. He raised his old friend in his 
arms, untied his cravat, and called aloud for Lydia, who 
came running into the room, but started back in a fright 
when she saw the minister supported in Ealph 's arms. 

“ What is the matter?" she asked. “ Is Mr. Fletcher 
ill?" 

“ I fear so. I found him in a dead faint on the floor 
when I entered." 

Lydia left the room as hastily as she had come, and 
quickly returned with a vial of salts, which she held to her 
master's nostrils. The stricken man slowly revived. 


76 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


Lydia and Ealph helped him to rise from the floor. They 
placed him in his easy-chair, and insisted on his drinking a 
glass of wine. 

“ Do you feel better, master anxiously asked Lydia. 

“Yes, Lydia, as well as I shall ever feel again in this 
world, sadly replied Mr. Fletcher. 

“What has happened? Isn^t Miss Letty here? It is 
high time she returned home.” 

“ I will go and bring her back, sir, if you will tell me 
where she is,” said Ealph. 

“Oh, Ealph! Ealph! my poor lad! How shall 1 tell 
you?” 

“ Is there bad news, master? I thought I saw Lot Bur- 
den go out of your gate an hour ago. Has anything hap- 
pened to Miss Letty? Is she dead — drowned? Speak!” 

“ Would to Heaven that she were in her grave!” groaned 
the wretched parent. 

“ What is it you are saying, sir; I do not understand,” 
said Ealph, in a low, clear tone. 

Lydia sat down nervously on the edge of a chair; she 
could stand no longer, watching her master with terror- 
stricken eyes, fearing to hear the tidings that he was about 
to communicate. 

“ There is only one thing worse than death,” cried the 
young man, excitedly. “ Is it that?” 

A long pause, then the disgraced father, with low, bowed 
head, answered sorrowfully; 

“It is.” 

Lydia fell back in her chair with a great cry. It 
changed to a low long moan of anguish as she hid her face 
in her hands. She had carried Letty as a baby in her arms 
when she was only a girl of twelve years old, and had loved 
her better than any one in the world, therefore her grief 
was intense. 

Ealph KingsmilFs face flushed hotly, and then it be- 
came ghastly in its awful pallor. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


77 


“ Tell me where to find the man?^^ cried he, fiercely. 

“ What would you do?^^ 

“ As there is a God above us, I would kill him!^^ 

“ ‘ Vengeance is mine,^ saith the Lord. ” 

“ 1 will have his life, sir; he has made mine worthless.'^ 

‘‘ Ralph, think of me — pity me! Do not try to find 
him. Soil not your hands with his blood. Leave him to 
God! Even if you gratify your revenge, it will not bring 
back our innocent girl. Oh! man, man, my heart is 
broken 

Mr. Fletcher flung up his arms, and would have fallen 
to the floor if Ralph had not caught him. The young man 
and Lydia carried their beloved friend to his chamber, and 
put him to bed. Ralph went for Dr. W estern, and Lydia 
bade him hasten, as she was afraid her master would die. 

In spite of all her efforts, she could not rouse him. He 
lay as if his spirit had fled from its tenement of clay. Poor 
Lydia broke into a subdued wail as she watched beside his 
bedside. 

“ The Lord be merciful to this dishonored house !^^ she 
murmured, as she sat anxiously counting the minutes be- 
fore the physician made his appearance. 


CHAPTER X. 

IN THE TOILS. 

When Letty Fletcher found herself seated beside Cap- 
tain Fanshawe, she realized that she felt more kindly dis- 
posed toward him than she cared to acknowledge. She 
augured mentally that he had rescued her from her dan- 
gerous position on the river, and his prompt aid had saved 
her from drowning. She magnified the obligation that she 
was under to Captain Fanshawe. She believed that her 
gratitude should be boundless, and finished by imagining 
that she preferred him to her old lover, Ralph Kingsmill. 
Young, inexperienced girls often take sudden and unac- 


7g 


SAIHTS AND SINNERS. 


countable fancies^ especially when a handsome, polished 
man of the world, who is an agreeable companion, tries to 
make an impression on their hearts. 

Captain Fanshawe, anxious to banish all disagreeable 
ideas from the mind of his fair companion, did his utmost 
to entertain her. Letty was fascinated by the glamour of 
his presence. She was like a poor little bird that we once 
saw. The robin fluttered, but could not fly away from the 
serpent coiled around the trunk of the tree that sheltered 
the little songster; the bird had not the courage to fly 
from its enemy, but remained, charmed by the serpent^s 
eyes that glittered like green diamonds in the sunshine, 
and hopped nearer to its foe. The snake raised its head, 
made a spring, and its deadly fangs pierced the bird^s 
heart. 

The captain^s brilliant sallies of wit soon ceased, how- 
ever, after the train had started. . He knew his part to be 
an ignoble' one, and his conscience chided him for entrap- 
ping the innocent girl away from her home. Letty felt 
sorry for the handsome officer sitting beside her. He 
looked so dejected, and her eyes happening to meet his, 
she found courage to say: 

Pray, do not look so grieved. 

‘‘ I can not help it, Letty, answered Eustace, with a 
deep sigh. ‘‘ 1 am sorry, my dear girl, that we did not 
meet years ago. I would have been a better man if I had 
had a woman like you at my side. Heaven only knows 
what will be my fate, now that you have thrown me over 
for a man you do not love.^^ 

“ You are cruel. Captain Fanshawe. My father felt 
grieved and unhappy about me; he loves Ralph like his 
own son; I love him like a brother. 

“ But not like a lover, Letty. You think in time you 
may love him?^^ 

“ I hope so,'’^ replied Letty. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 79 

Love does not come at our bidding. We love those 
who are often unworthy of our love. 

“ But Ralph Kingsmill is worthy of the love of any one. 
He is so good and kind. I do not believe that he has an 
enemy in the world. 

‘‘ Yet you do not love him, Letty, and you will only 
marry him to please your father.^’ 

Letty was silent. Her cheeks flushed, and she trembled 
with agitation, knowing she could not contradict the cap- 
tain^s assertion. 

“lam afraid that I shall become an out-an-out scoun- 
drel, now that you have thrown me overboard. 

“ Oh! don^’t say so. Captain Fanshawe. You make me 
feel miserable. 1 can not bear the thought that I am 
driving you to be a bad man.'’^ The tears stood in Letty^s 
eyes as she spoke. 

At this moment the guard came to look at the tickets, 
and as he took them from Captain Fanshawe^’s hand, he 
looked surprised, and said: 

“ Your tickets are for Hownham, sir. This train is go- 
ing to London. 

“ Good gracious! what a mistake Leeson has made. 
What is the next station you stop at?^^ 

“We donT stop at any station this side of London. 
You are on the express.'’^ 

“ 1 am very sorry that my man made this mistake. 
What is the diflerence in the fare?^^ 

“ One pound, ten, sir,^' replied the guard. 

Captain Fanshawe paid the man, who gave him other 
tickets, and then disappeared. As soon as they were alone 
— they had the carriage entirely to themselves — the gal- 
lant captain turned to his companion. 

“ Letty, I am very sorry that this has happened. Lee- 
son made a very great mistake, for he told me distinctly 
that this was our train. ” 

I heard him say so, but I thought I also heard the 


80 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


guard cry out at the same time, ‘ All aboard for Lon- 
don!^ 

“ Why did you not tell me?’"’ 

“ I did not like to do so; in fact, I thought 1 made a 
mistake, as the two trains stood so near each other, both 
ready to start. 

“ This is a most unpleasant affair, and I deeply regret 
that it has happened, Captain Fanshawe replied, in a 
tone of unmistakable annoyance. The minister's daugh- 
ter did not suspect that the gallant officer was acting a 
part in lifers drama; for he played his role so admirably, 
he would have deceived a more experienced person than 
Letty. He evidently had a talent for private theatricals. 

‘‘ What will my father think has become of me? He 
will be so anxious, Captain Fanshawe! What shall I do? 
Oh! what shall I do?^^ cried Letty, bursting into tears. 

“ My dear girl, ycu need not feel so uneasy. I will 
telegraph to your father the moment we arrive in London. 
You are in my care, and, believe me, as much as 1 deplore 
Leeson^s stupidity, I am delighted to think we shall spend 
a few more hours together. 

But Letty refused to be comforted. She laid her head 
against the cushion at the back of her seat, and wept 
silently. 

“ Come, Letty, cheer up; donT feel so badly over 
what is an unavoidable accident. Come, dry your eyes.'’^ 

“ But think of my poor ‘father waiting for me--expect- 
ing me! Oh! what will he think has happened to me?^^ 

“We will be in London in another hour,’^ said the cap- 
tain, looking at his watch. “ And I will immediately wire 
to your father and relieve his anxiety. 

But still Letty could not feel more comfortable. She 
knew Ralph Kingsmill and her father expected her home, 
and she was morally certain that no telegraph message 
that she could send to her father would assure him of her 
safety, especially if Captain Fanshawe sent it. She was 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


81 


too well aware of the opinion which the minister had 
formed lof that gentleman. Poor girl! she was wretchedly 
unhappy, but finally resolved to conquer her grief, know- 
ing that her swollen eyelids would attract attention at the 
station. By an exertion of her will she mastered her emo- 
tion, so by the time the train reached London she was out-^ 
wardly composed. 

After the captain had assisted Letty to alight from the 
train, they found Leeson standing on the platform, await- 
ing his master’s ordei:s. 

“ What possessed you to put us on board the wrong 
train?” demanded the captain, in no very gentle tone of 
voice. 

“lam sorry, sir, that I made such a stupid mistake.” 

“ Sorry, you blockhead! 1 have a great mind to dis- 
charge you altogther. What do you suppose Miss Fletcher 
thinks of me — bringing her up to London, instead of tak- 
ing her home, as I had promised?” 

“ Eeally, sir, 1 could not help it; the two trains started 
so near together,” humbly replied the valet. 

“ That will do, Leeson. Your excuse is a very poor 
one. The next time I take a train I shall look out for 
myself. Go and see if you can properly ascertain when the 
next train leaves for Downham. ” 

“ Yes, sir,” answered Leeson, as he touched his hat and 
disappeared, muttering: “ The captain is a born actor. 
He would make his fortune on the stage, he would.” 

“ I will now go and telegraph at once to your father, if 
you will step into the ladies’ waiting-room,” remarked 
Captain Fanshawe, as he escorted Letty thither. 

Letty sat down in the first seat she reached, and waited 
with what patience she could muster for his return. 

•Captain Fanshawe was absent about a quarter of an 
hour, and when he entered the waiting-room, his face wore 
a perplexed expression. Letty looked up at him anxiously 
as he stood before her. 


82 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


I must tell you that we can not return to Downham 
to-niglit; there being no train until three o^clock to-mor- 
row morning. 1 have telegraphed to your father. 

“Thank you. I feel less anxious now/’’ answered 
Letty, gratefully. 

“ Come, I will take you to a hotel where we will dine, 
for you look very much fatigued, and I know you must 
need some refreshment.^^ 

“ I do feel weary, was Letty '’s candid reply. 

Leeson now came to them, and said: 

“ 1 have a cab outside waiting for you, sir.^^ 

“ Very well, Leeson; tell the man to drive to Al- 
mond 

The captain w^as in • the habit of stopping at Morley^s, 
Trafalgar Square, when he was in town; but for reasons 
best known to himself he took Letty to Almond^s — this be- 
ing a more private establishment than the other. 

The hotel was on Clifton Street, now known as Bond, 
a much quieter portion of the city than Trafalgar Square. 

Captain Fanshawe thought he would escape meeting any 
of his acquaintances by going to Almond^s. After reach- 
ing there he registered both their names separately. He 
felt he could not write Captain Fanshawe and lady, as he 
had originally intended. 

A neat maid showed Letty into a private sitting-room 
belonging to the suite of apartments that the captain had 
engaged. Letty dropped into an arm-chair, and took her 
hat off her aching head. She was alone for nearly half an 
hour, then a waiter knocked and announced dinner. He 
was followed by the captain, who escorted her to the din- 
ing-room connected with her rooms. 

“ Now you must really try to eat something or you will 
be ill,^'’ said Eustace, as they commenced their repast. 

Letty smiled, and cheerfully acquiesced, knowing that 
she was well able to do full justice to the dainty dinner 
spread before her. She was very hungry, having eaten a 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 83 

very light breakfast^ and, if possible, a still lighter lunch 
at the picnic. 

After dinner, Eustace asked her if she would be kind 
enough to pour out a cup of coffee for him. She did so, 
and sweetly smiled as she gave him the cup. 

“ Letty, I wish 1 could have you to pour out my coffee 
the rest of my days.^^ 

“ So do I; but 1 have promised to marry Ralph. 

‘‘ 1 know it well, dear; but I don^t think it will be right 
for you to keep your promise. 

“ Why?’^ asked Letty, innocently. 

“ Because you do not love him. You like him, but — I 
say you do not love him/'’ reiterated the captain. 

“ But I have known him ever since I was a child. 

“ Does that make your heart warm to him?^^ 

‘‘Not exactly; but it seems so strange to love you, a 
stranger to me a few weeks ago. 

“We met under peculiar circumstances, my dear.*^ 

“ You saved my life. Captain Fanshawe. I can never 
forget that. I shall always feel grateful to you as long as 
I live.^^ 

“I do not want your gratitude; I want your love, 
Letty. ” 

“ You know that you have a place in my heart,^^ softly 
answered Letty, smiling and blushing, deeply as she made 
the admission. 

“ I do not want a place. I want your whole heart, 
dear. Give it all to me!’'’ pleaded Eustace, earnestly. 

“ How can I, when I promised my father to marry 
Ralph?” asked Letty, with the tears in her beautiful eyes. 

“ Dearest, you are tired, and I am a brute to keep you 
talking when you should be in your bed. Good-night, and 
pleasant dreams to you, darling!” said the captain, kissing 
her hand, which he had been holding. He rose abruptly 
and left the room, feeling that he dearly loved this fair 
girl who trusted him so implicitly. 


84 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


Lefcty went into the adjoining chamber and sat down. 

She felt very weary, but her bodily fatigue was naught 
to the mental distress that she endured. She was in love 
with the handsome officer; she hated to return to Down- 
ham, where her old lover awaited her, and she despised 
and detested most of the members of her father^s congre- 
gation. In fact, she wanted and longed for a change. 
Besides all this, there was a doubt in her mind regarding 
her promise to marry Ealph. Would it be perfectly right 
and just to be faithful to that promise? How long she sat 
ruminating, she did not know; but the clock of a neigh- 
boring church striking one admonished her of the half- 
spent night. She hastily undressed, said her prayers, and 
retired; but she could not woo sleep to her weary eyelids. 
Toward morning she fell into a sound slumber, totally un- 
conscious of the dangers that threatened her, for she 
thoroughly believed Eustace Fanshawe to be a man of un- 
blemished honor. Alas for woman^s faith and man’s 
treachery! 

In another apartment of the hotel sat Eustace Fanshawe 
smoking a fragrant Havana, while he cogitated on his 
plans regarding Letty Fletcher. Leeson, who had been 
dispatched on various errands for his master, knocked at 
the chamber-door and aroused the captain. 

“ Did you succeed in purchasing the articles 1 desired?” 

“ I did, sir, after a considerable amount of trouble, for 
most of the large shops are closed.” 

“That is just what I expected; it was nearly eight 
o’clock when you started.” 

Leeson laid the various packages on the table which, as 
they were opened, his master examined and approved. 

“Do we remain here, sir?” asked Leeson, who was 
very curious concerning the captain’s plans. 

“ Well, that will depend on circumstances. If Miss 
Fletcher will consent to marry me — ” 

“ Sir!” exclaimed the astounded valet. 


SAIKTS AKD SIKNERS. 


85 


“You don’t understand me, my good fellow. The girl, 
I believe, loves me; but she is virtuous; therefore she will 
be fearfully and wonderfully obdurate on the point of 
marriage. Can’t you think of some plan?” 

Leeson was silent for some time, evidently ransacking 
his brains to devise some means to suggest to his employer." 

“ I have it!” he exclaimed at last. “ You can be mar- 
ried in Scotland. 1 will be the only witness. The man 
who performs the ceremony can pass as a magistrate, the 
young lady will never know the difference.” 

“ A capital idea. But are such marriages legal?” 

“ That I do not know. I believe they are not considered 
so now.” 

“ I will see my lawyer in the morning and ascertain. 1 
want to be on the safe side. I love the girl to distraction; 
nevertheless, I must run no risk, as 1 do not care to be 
arrested for bigamy. ” 

“ That would never do, sir,” remarked Leeson. 

“ If I can obtain the consent of Miss Fletcher to become 
my wife, I will run the risk, providing that I can do so 
safely. 1 don’t see that I am committing any crime in 
trying to be happy in my own way. I am bound to a 
woman I hate. Clara Raddles has never broken her mar- 
riage vows, unfortunately, and that stops my obtaining 
any divorce. I have given her cause enough to get one; 
but no, she wants me to be her bound slave for life. 
Pshaw! I can not command myself to talk rationally on 
this subject!” cried Eustace, walking up and down the 
room excitedly. 

Leeson listened to his master calmly and with an im- 
movable face. 

“If the thing can be done,” said Captain Fanshawe. 
“You may know some one who will play the parson. 1 
suppose you have an extensive but not overselect circle 
of acquaintances?” 


86 


SAINTS AND SINNEES. 


“Yes, sir; I know a man over the Border who will do 
the job for a five-pound note/^ 

“ Very well. I shall not forget your services, and if 
matters turn out satisfactorily will reward you handsome- 
ly,^^ answered the captain, as he dismissed his servant and 
retired to seek a much-needed rest. 


CHAPTER XL 

LETTY^S INFATUATION. 

About nine o’clock the next morning Captain Fanshawe 
rang the bell of Mr. John Wakefield’s house. He hoped 
to be fortunate enough to see the celebrated divorce lawyer 
before the latter had left his residence for his office. The 
servant who answered the door informed the captain that 
her master was engaged. Eustace wrote a line on his card, 
asking for a brief interview, then sat down to wait for his 
legal friend. 

In a few minutes Mr. Wakefield entered the reception- 
room. 

“ Well, well, this is a surprise,” said the lawyer, cor- 
dially shaking hands with his visitor. “ When did you 
arrive?” 

“Oh! I returned with my regiment two months ago, 
but our friend Herbert insisted on my coming down to his 
place, and I only came back to town last night.” 

“ What can I do for you?” inquired the lawyer. “You 
wrote on your card that you desired to see me on busi- 
ness. ” 

“ So I do. I wish you would try and get me a divorce. 
I am tired of my lonely life; therefore, if you can bring 
Clara to terms, pray do so with as little delay as possible. 
I believe 1 wrote to you on the subject several months 
ago.” 

“ Yes, you did; and 1 called on Mrs. Fanshawe when I 
received your letter. I found her very obstinate; in fact 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


87 


she would not hear of a divorce under any circumstances. 
Then I endeavored to reason with her, but 1 could not 
convince her that she ought to give you your liberty.^’ 

“ It is what I might have expected at her hands. What 
does she care how I suffer as long as she is clothed in pur- 
ple and fine linen? A more selfish woman doesn’t exist on 
the face of the earth. 1 would give her every shilling of 
my fortune except my entailed estate to be free.” 

“ 1 tried to bribe her, but she only laughed at me. It 
is a pity that you could not force her to set you free. 
There has been nothing in her conduct to justify us com- 
mencing a suit, for she has never been untrue to her mar- 
riage vows. I put one of our keenest detectives on her 
track, but to no purpose. He ascertained, I believe, 
through one of her maids, that she was rather fond of 
spirits; but she always discreetly retired to her private 
apartments when she was not in a fit condition to receive 
company. The law will not listen to such a plea for 
divorce; if it did, my friend, there are many wretched men 
and women who would gladly avail themselves of it.'” 

‘‘Oh, the law is a humbug!” exclaimed Captain Fan- 
shawe. “ I hold that a man or woman who is a drunkard 
is unfit to live with.” 

“ I agree with you, but the law does not look upon it in 
that light. I have had clients come to me with tales of 
domestic woe that would astonish society; but I am forced 
to tell them the truth. The law grants a divorce only on 
the plea of adultery. As madame’s conduct in ’this re- 
spect is beyond reproach, I am afraid I can do nothing for 
you.” 

“ I wish I had never been such a fool as to marry her!” 
ejaculated the captain, bitterly. 

“ It is a pity you were not married in Scotland instead 
of Canada,” remarked the lawyer. 

“ Pshaw! What difference would that make?” demand-^ 
ed the ofiicer, pettishly. 


88 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ All the difference in the world, provided you had a 
mere Scotch ceremony performed with a witness on whom 
you could depend. I have had several such cases 
come under my notice. You could then bring your wife 
to terms, as she would have no proof that she was your 
legal spouse. 

“ You astonish me! I thought Scotch marriages were 
legal?^^ 

“ When they can be proved. In 1856 the old law, by 
which the mere verbal declaration of consent before wit- 
nesses was sufficient to constitute a Scottish legal marriage, 
became effete through the passing of Act of Parliament, 
19 and 20 Vic., 0., 96. By this act the laws of Scotland 
and England were brought into assimilation, and from 
that year the occupation of the northern hedge parsons 
was virtually gone, though I know of a marriage that took 
place in Scotland in 1870. It was a strictly private affail; 
the baronet a year after inherited a princely fortune — pro- 
viding he would marry his uncle’s ward. As his Scotch 
marriage was private, I obtained a divorce for him by a 
quibble of the law, and had no scruples in so doing because 
the clergyman’s daughter whom my friend had married 
was as anxious as he to have the compact annulled. ” 

She was a sensible woman,” remarked Captain Fan- 
shawe. 

“ Uncommonly so. She told me that she would not 
force any man to acknowledge her who did not see fit to do 
so of his own accord,” answered Mr. Wakefield. 

‘‘ I wish Clara was like her. Those who insist upon 
being tied together against one another’s will, lack com-- 
mon sense. Once the heart becomes indifferent, no power 
on earth will ever renew the old love. If I had had any 
children I should not wish for a divorce, Mr. Wakefield.” 

“ My friend, believe me, I deplore the fact of not having 
the power to aid you; however, I will make another effort 


SAIKTS AKD SINKERS. 


89 


in your behalf. 1 will call upon your wife again. She 
may be more willing than she was six months ago.^’ 

“ I will be only too glad to purchase my liberty on any 
terms/^ said Captain Fanshawe, rising to take his de- 
parture. 

“ I will do so and let you know the result/^ answered 
the lawyer, as he accompanied his client to the door, where 
he bade him good-morning. 

The captain entered his cab and was driven directly back 
to Almond’s. He had made up his mind to risk a Scotch 
marriage; and he inwardly laughed as he thought how he 
had obtained the information which he sought without ask- 
ing for it directly. 

Letty slept soundly until awakened by a loud knock at 
her door. She opened her eyes and started up — it was a 
dull foggy morning. The crushing noises without half 
stunned her for a moment until she realized she was in 
London. 

Letty • soon unlocked and opened the door to admit the 
chamber-maid, who had a traveling-cloak and shawl flung 
over her arm, and a handsome dressing-case in her hands. 

‘ ‘ The captain’s gentleman told me to bring you these, 
miss. He says his master ordered them sent to you with 
his compliments.” 

“ He is very kind,” replied Letty. 

“ You came on the wrong train, the gentleman told 
me,” said the girl, whose curiosity was very much excited 
over the new guests. 

“ Yes, we made a mistake; we should have taken the 
Downham train. I shall return home this morning. 
What time is it, please?” 

“ Almost ten o’clock, miss.” 

“ I have overslept myself. I had no idea it was so 
late,” said Letty. 

“ Shall I bring up your breakfast?” asked the chamber- 
maid, who had received her instructions from Leeson, 


^0 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


with a handsome fee sent by his master, as the captain 
desired to make Letty feel as comfortable as possible. 

“ I will be ready for my breakfast in half an hour/^ 
said Letty. 

“ Very well, miss, 1 will see that you have a nice one,^^ 
answered the girl, as she left the room. 

Letty was very grateful to the captain for his thought- 
ful kindness; and as the atmosphere was damp, and she 
felt very chilly, she threw the warm shawl around her 
shoulders. The handsome dressing-case which he had sent 
was also very acceptable, as she had neither comb nor 
brush. When she had finished her breakfast she tried on 
the traveling -cloak and was surprised to see how well the 
stylish garment became her. She took it off with a sigh, 
feeling she ought not to accept so many costly gifts from 
Captain Fanshawe, and besides, she felt rather lonely, not 
knowing where the gallant captain was, nor when he in- 
tended to take her back to Downham. 

Her sad reverie was interrupted by a low knock, and she 
answered, “ Come in,’' expecting to see the maid who had 
waited on her enter. It was not the girl, but Eustace 
Fanshawe who walked into the room as she called out. 

Letty felt the crimson blood rising in her cheeks as she 
held out her hand to greet her friend. 

“ I am pleased to find you looking so refreshed after 
your night’s rest.” 

“ Thank you. 1 did sleep very well, and feel a great 
deal better this morning. 1 was very tired last night. ” 

“ I saw that you were; and believe me, I am sorry such 
a stupid error occurred. ” 

“ So am 1, as I am afraid my father has been very anx- 
ious about me.” 

“ I do not think he has any cause to feel so. I tele- 
graphed the facts to him. ” 

“ When can I return home. Captain Fanshawe?” 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 91 

“ Any time to-day. I want to take you for a drive and 
show you a little of London before you go back.^^ 

“ 1 should be happy to avail myself of your kind offer, 
but I feel I ought to go home at once. 

“ As you please, Letty,^^ said Eustace, drawing nearer 
to her and taking one of her hands. “ I am going to 
make one more appeal to you.^^ 

There was no mistaking the tone of his voice nor the 
glance of his eye. Letty knew what was coming, and 
turned away her head. 

“I must speak, Letty, continued he. “It is but a 
few words, and then I shall be silent forever. You love 
me, yet you seek to break my heart. Listen to me : Do 
you think you will be happy with this man whom your 
father desires you to wed 2^^ 

The girl was silent. She shuddered and sighed as Cap- 
tain Fanshawe asked her this question. 

“ Letty, be my wife. Come with me to Scotland; we 
will be married there where no one will think of looking 
for us. As soon as our honey-moon is over we will return 
to Downham and ask your father^s forgiveness. 

Letty pulled her hand, which her lover was still holding, 
away from him, and walked to the window. “ I ought 
not to listen to you,^^ she murmured. 

“One moment more yet, I pray you,’^ entreated Eus- 
tace, as. he came and stood in front of the blushing girl, 
who was trying in vain to steel her heart against his plead- 
ings. 

“ Do you think I will let you go?^^ he asked. “ Letty, 
turn around; look at me instead of looking in the street. 
1 love you. I want you for my wife, and I mean to have 
you."" 

At this Letty quickly turned and flashed one of her old, 
imperious glances on him. 

“ No, I am not going to be annihilated, even by the fire 
of your eyes, dearest — eyes that are to my mind the most 


92 


SAI^-TS AN-D SINNERS. 


beautiful on earth— the truest, the dearest ever since I first 
saw them. I know that you care for me a little, and I 
know that I love you with all the strength of my heart. 

The beautiful girl looked up, and the sweet dark eyes, 
fall of tears, met his. 

‘‘ I will go with you to the end of the world, she said, 
impulsively. 

“My own Letty!^^ cried Eustace, clasping her in his 
arms. And then, in soft, caressing tones he told her what 
he intended to do. “ Would she consent 

Consent! She hid her fair rosy face on her lover^s shoul- 
der as she murmured: 

“To be your wife I would risk anything; only some 
day soon after our marriage you must promise to take me 
home. 1 canT bear that father should — 

“ Of course; and you will not. After our marriage you 
shall go home and tell your father everything, said Eus- 
tace Fanshawe, kissing the dainty, sweet lips of the girl 
who thus gave herself to him in perfect faith and trust. 

As Letty’s innocent eyes met his passionate gaze they 
smote him — heartless and selfish as he was — they smote him 
— the loving, faithful eyes of the girl he was betraying. 

^ ^ ^ ^ 

Gretna Green is the name of an insignificant village 
in the border country between England and Scotland. 
It is situated in Dumfriesshire near the mouth of the Esk, 
nine miles north-west of Carlisle, and consequently within a 
mile of the English border. Probably no place of such 
absence of pretension to size and population has attained 
the notoriety attached to the name of Gretna Green. This 
distinction it has obtained merely through its being the 
first place suitable for stoppage after the English border 
was once passed. 

This close proximity was utilized by runaway couples, 
who, dispensing for various reasons with the preliminaries 
of any one^s consent to their union or the publication of 


SAIl^TS AND SINNEES. 


93 


the bans requisite by the English marriage laws, could, 
when once on Scottish ground, accomplish their wedding 
by simply declaring before witnesses their mutual willing- 
ness to undertake the contract. 

To the facility then that the marriage laws of Scotland 
offered to amorous and impatient lovers, the fishing village 
of Gretna Green owes its repute as the chosen altar of 
Hymen. 

Immediately after Captain Fanshawe had obtained 
Letty^s assent to be his wife, they took the train for Car- 
lisle. On their arrival he hired a carriage to drive himself 
and Letty to Gretna Green. 

As the crown of firs which marks the village from the 
surrounding country came into view, Letty felt her heart . 
beat fast. 

“ We are going to cross the bridge now, Letty. See, there 
is the village. Within the hour you will be my wife, dear.^^ 

Letty blushed and was silently happy. Did she then 
think of the man whom she was deserting or of her father 
in that distant English village. Alas! no. At that su- 
preme moment she was perfectly happy. Downham and 
all its inhabitants were forgotten, and her only thought 
was of her bridegroom. Poor Letty! she imagined she 
loved the handsome officer who had prevailed upon her to' 
desert all she had ever loved on earth for his sake. 

Captain Fanshawe had pretty well muffled himself up. 

He wore a light summer overcoat, and by turning up 
the collar and pulling his hat well down over his eyes lie 
was well disguised; at least it was impossible to clearly 
distinguish his features. 

On the train he had also taken the precaution of com- 
plaining of a cinder in his eye, and had put on a pair of 
dark-blue glasses. In reality his appearance was so much 
changed that the eyes of love alone could have recognized 
him. He looked flushed and eager as a bridegroom should. 

When they reached Gretna Green he told the driver to 


94 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


stop at the Crown, which was the only comfortable inn 
in the place. He alighted before the inn and entered the 
bar-room, where he found Leeson waiting for him. The 
valet had left London earlier to make arrangements for 
his master^s wedding. 

Leeson sprung to his feet when the captain called him 
by name, for the man did not recognize his master. 

“ Excuse me, sir, 1 didnT know you. The glasses alter 
your appearance entirely. ” 

‘‘lam glad to hear it. I do not wish to be recognized. 
Follow me. I wish to speak to you privately. 

Leeson followed his master to the porch of the inn. 

“ Leeson, this Scotch marriage is a risky business. 
Have you found a man on whom you are sure you can de- 
pend?’^ 

“Yes, sir. He leaves Scotland to-morrow forever. His 
son, who has a sheep farm in Australia, has sent for him; 
therefore you need not fear that he will trouble you.^^ 

“ Very well, Leeson, you shall be rewarded. Remem- 
ber that you must be the only witness. 

“ Yes, sir; I have arranged everything. David Laing 
is prepared to perform the ceremony. He lives in a cot- 
tage about a quarter of a mile from here. I will sit by 
the driver and show him the way.^^ 

“ Do so. I want to get the affair over as soon as possi- 
ble, as I want to catch the next train for Carlisle, an- 
swered the captain. 

Leeson bowed as he held the carriage door open for his 
master. 

They soon reached a little thatched cottage with its ad- 
joining shed, formerly used as a blacksmith '’s shop by 
Laing, and sold by him a week previous with the good-will 
of the business to his cousin. 

When the carriage drove up before the cottage. Captain 
Fanshawe jumped out and assisted Letty to alight. An 
old woman wearing a bright crimson flannel petticoat and 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 9^ 

a short calico sacque opened the door to admit them the 
moment the carriage had drawn up. 

Captain Fanshawe drew Letty^s arm within his own, and 
accompanied by Leeson, they entered the main room of 
the cottage. The old woman silently left the apartment, 
and a moment after a tall Scotchman, whose hair and beard 
had been bleached by sixty summers of care, walked in. 

“ This is the lady and gentleman who desire to be 
joined, said Leeson. 

“Very well; please stand in the middle of the floor, 
sir.’' 

Eustace Fanshawe obeyed him, and walked to the cen- 
ter of the room with Letfcy on his arm. 

“ Witness, take your place on the right of the gentle- 
man.” 

Leeson glided beside his master. 

“ Have you the ring, sir?” asked David Laing. 

Captain Fanshawe handed him the plain gold band that 
he had purchased for Letty before they left London. 

David Laing told Letty to hold out her left hand. She 
did so, feeling that she was going through a strange cere- 
mony. She did not recollect seeing her father marry 
couples so. Laing put the ring on her left hand, and said: 

“ Letty Fletcher, do you take this man to be your law- 
ful wedded husband?” 

“ I do,” the trembling girl replied. 

“ Eustace Fanshawe, do you take this woman to be your 
lawful wedded wife?” 

“ I do,” answered the captain, firmly. 

“ I pronounce you to be man and wife according to the 
laws of Scotland,” said the blacksmith, solemnly. 

A fee was slipped from the palm of the bridegroom into 
the hand of David Laing, who shook hands with the cap- 
tain, and wished him joy. The bride was placed in the 
carriage by her bridegroom. 

“ You are a trump, Leeson,” whispered Captain Fan- 


96 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


shawe to his valet. ‘‘ I shall not forget what you have 
done for me to-day. 

Leeson smiled, and knew that his reward would be 
great. 

Captain Fanshawe sprung into the carriage, took a seat 
beside his bride. They drove away from Gretna Green 
and returned to Carlisle. 


CHAPTEE XII. 

THE RAILROAD ACCIDENT. 

On the fifteenth of June, Captain Fanshawe opened a 
copy of the London “ Times, dated the previous day, 
and while casually glancing over its columns read the fol- 
lowing: 

“ A passenger train collided with a freight train near 
Brighton this morning. Nineteen people were killed and 
a large number of others injured. 

‘‘ The passenger train consisted of eleven coaches. 
There are various causes given for the wreck. Engineer 
John Harris, of the freight train, is blamed. It is said 
that he acted contrary to his instructions. Both trains 
were running at full speed when the collision occurred. 
The excitement on the train among the passengers who 
escaped was intense. Many ladies were found insensible 
from fright when the guard unlocked the doors of their 
carriages. 

“ The scene that took place in the first two coaches is 
described by an eye-witness, who was fortunate enough to 
escape uninjured, as one of awful horror. 

“ The first warning given was the slight jar caused by 
the heavy pressure of the air-brakes. The passengers 
braced themselves in their seats, apprehensive of danger. 
Then came the terrible shock, followed by the smashing 
of the windows and the roofs of the first carriages. In an 


SAINTS and sinners. 


97 


instant there was a mass of bleeding and struggling hu- 
manity. Men were locked in each other^s arms and 
covered with blood, while underneath them and on all 
sides lay unfortunates who had been instantly killed. 
The wounded crawled out of the debris, and were assisted 
to the neighboring houses. People brought bedding and 
litters, on which to lay the dead and dying. 

“ When the work of removing the injured and dead had 
been completed, the corpses were taken to the freight- 
house and laid upon the floor for identification, and the 
wounded who were able to bear removal were placed in 
carriages and driven to the hospital. 

‘‘ Among the recognized dead are the following: W. H. 
Lommis, a prominent ship-builder, who has a villa at 
Brighton; Charles Hamilton, John Shaw, Henry Saunders, 
Frank Cole, and Mrs. Eustace Fanshawe, of London — 

“ Impossible!^’ cried Captain Fanshawe, staring at his 
wife’s name. ‘‘ It must be a false report. Can it be 
true?” 

His face was ghastly and his heart beat wildly, while 
great beads of perspiration stood on his brow as he mur- 
mured under his breath : 

“ Has my release arrived in time to prevent me from 
becoming a scoundrel?” 

Letty entered at this moment, and said to him : 

^‘Are you not coming to breakfast, Eustace? Leeson 
told me that you were engaged. What is it, dear? Have 
you had any bad news? You look as pale as if you had 
seen a ghost. ” 

Yea, he had seen one— a grim reminder of his past life, 
that seemed to rise up and reproach him for betraying the 
guileless girl that stood before him. 

He folded the newspaper and put it in his pocket, as he 
had no desire to let Letty see it. 

4 


98 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


I have just heard of the death of a friend of mine, and 
1 must confess I felt shocked.’^ 

‘‘ I am very sorry, dear. Come and take a cup of hot 
coffee — you will feel better; your hands are as cold as ice.^^ 

Captain Fanshawe drew Letty toward him and kissed 
her fondly. 

“ 1 will do as you desire, dear. You are a sweet con- 
soler, little woman. 

‘‘ I hope I shall always prove so, Eustace, answered 
Letty, as she put her hand on Captain Fanshawe^s arm 
and led him into an adjoining room where breakfast was 
waiting for him. 

A half hour afterward Leeson brought his master a tele- 
gram. It was a message from Jack Eaddles, announcing 
his sister’s death. The captain sent the dispatch to Mr. 
Wakefield, with the request to forward it to Captain Fan- 
shawe, as he did not know his brother-in-law’s address. 
This was a confirmation of the newspaper report, and all 
Eustace Fanshawe ’s doubts vanished. 

He knew that when a railway accident did take place in 
England, it was an accident — none of your milk-and-water 
affairs, where a great fright and a few bruises make the 
extent of the damages-— but too often a great calamity, the 
remembrance of which lasts a life-time. 

Captain Fanshawe was puzzled; he did not know what 
to do. He could not leave Letty alone, as she was only a 
bride of a few days. His first care was to destroy his copy 
of the “ Times,” lest by any mischance she might learn 
the truth he was most anxious to conceal. 

The afternoon post brought him a letter from Mr. 
Wakefield, which read thus: 


London, June 1880 . 

“ Dear Captain Fanshawe, — I wired you this morn- 
ing. Your brother-in-law telegraphed to me from Brigh- 
ton, asking me to send you the news ofhis sister’s demise. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


99 


While 1 deplore the lady^s shocking death, I feel that you 
will welcome your release from a bond that had become 
unbearable to you. If I can serve you in any way, pray 
command me. 

“ I saw our friend Herbert yesterday in court. He de- 
sired me to say that if under present circumstances he can 
render you any assistance, he will be only too happy to 
do so. 

“ Your friend, 

“John Wakefield.^’ 

Captain Fanshawe read the lawyer’s letter attentively, 
and then, excusing himself to Letty, left the hotel and 
went to the telegraph-office. He sent a message to Jack 
Eaddles, telling him to make all the necessary arrange^ 
ments for his sister’s funeral. Then he wrote him a note, 
saying: 

“ I inclose a check for a hundred pounds for Clara’s 
funeral expenses, but owing to private business matters, it 
will be impossible for me to attend the funeral. I feel 
deeply grieved that Clara was the victim of such a dread- 
ful accident, and believe me that I sympathize with you in 
your sad bereavement, as I know that you were very much 
attached to your sister. I forgive her freely for the past.” 

Such was the purport of the words he sent to his broth- 
er-in-law, and when he had posted the note he felt that he 
had done his duty toward Clara, who had been his wife in 
name only for the past seven years. 

Heaven had granted him a divorce from the woman who 
so determinedly had sought to make him feel that if they 
were separated he was still bound to her by a matrimonial 
chain which he could not break. 

When he returned to the hotel he was surprised to dis- 
cover Letty weeping bitterly. 

“ My darling, what is the matter?” asked the captain, 


100 


SAINTS AND SINNEBS. 


as he sat down by the fair girl on the sofa and endeavored 
to raise her head from the cushions where it was buried. 
Presently Letty raised her head, but her sobs choked her 
utterance. Eustace soothed her until she became calmer. 

‘‘Oh, Eustace!^^ she sobbed, “forgive me, but 1 am 
unhappy. I want to be married by a minister. 

“ My dear girl, we were married Just as well as if — '' 

“ No, Eustace, no,^' she interrupted, “ 1 do not feel 
that we were married as we should have been.^^ 

Poor girl! the first blush of her new-found happiness be- 
gan to fade, and she was plunged into grief. There had 
been a struggle going on in her soul from the hour she had 
consented to become Captain Fanshawe^’s wife. 

She felt humiliated as she thought how easily she had 
been won from her allegiance to her old lover Ealph 
Kingsmill; but there was considerable excuse for our 
heroine after all. 

She had lived amid a dead-and-alive country com- 
munity. Eownham had all the typical unpleasantness of 
villages of its size. There were grasping money-getters, 
who, under the cloak of religion, gave rein to their 
peculiar proclivities; there were gossips and scandal-mon- 
gers, canting hypocrites, and members of her father's con- 
gregation who delighted in finding fault with Mr. Fletcher 
and making his ministration a sore trial at times. 

Letty, the Joy of the minister’s household, as she be- 
came older, was made miserable by the very strait-laced 
people who surrounded her. She had Just arrived at that 
period of girlhood when the heart requires love and the 
brain craves greater variety and excitement than was to be 
found in the remote English village where her lot was 
cast. When she met Captain Fanshawe she was fasci- 
nated by his alluring manners, and with the inexplicable 
inconsistency common to most women, Letty preferred 
this dashing ofiicer to her former lover, honest Ealph. 

Not for a moment did she imagine that she had been 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


101 


made the victim of a base plot which had been conceived 
by the captain the instant that the porter of King’s Lynn 
railway station had cautioned him about taking the wrong 
train. We have seen that, aided by Leeson, Letty had 
been entrapped by the man she trusted. 

Even during the first hours of her wedded happiness her 
conscience upbraided her for deserting her father. She 
was greatly troubled, but bravely endeavored to conceal 
the fact from her husband. 

Eustace’s conscience reproached him for the treacherous 
part he had acted toward the confiding girl, and his face 
flushed with shame as she alluded to their Scotch marriage. 
At length he said : 

“ Letty, if it will make you feel any happier, I will write 
for a marriage license, and we will be married over again.” 

‘‘ Oh, Eustace, it will make me so happy if you will only 
do so!” she replied, clasping her hands. 

Why do you feel as if we were not properly married?” 

“ Because the ceremony that we went through with at 
Gretna Green was altogether different to the manner in 
which my father weds his parishioners; besides, 1 never 
received my marriage lines. ” 

“ How stupid we were to forget the document!” ex- 
claimed Captain Fanshawe. 

‘‘ Would the magistrate who married us send my certifi- 
cate if you wrote for it?” asked Letty, believing David 
Laing was a magistrate who married people according to 
the law when they had objections to being joined by the 
ministers of any religion. Her father had once explained 
to her that many persons were married in that way. 

Certainly, I will write to the party who married ps^ 
and he will send it at once,” replied Eustace, as Leeson 
knocked at the door. After the valet had entered and 
handed his master the mail, the captain asked him: 

“ What is the magistrate’s name who married us?” 


102 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ David Laiiig is his name;, sir; but it would be hard to 
give you his address.'’^ 

“ Pshaw! if a letter is addressed to Gretna Green it will 
reach him, it is such a small place. 

‘‘ It would, sir, if he were there, but he is not. He 
started for Australia the day after your wedding.'’’ 

“ What part of Australia?” 

“ 1 do not know, sir. ” 

When Leeson had gone Letty looked up at Eustace with 
a face from which every trace of color had vanished, and 
there was an expression of alarm on her countenance. She 
nervously twisted her hands together as she exclaimed: 

“ How can I ever prove that I am your wife?” 

“ Leeson witnessed our marriage, my dear girl,” ear- 
nestly answered the captain. 

“ So he did; but we have been careless. I should have 
my marriage lines to pro re to the world that I was an 
honest woman if any one doubted our marriage. I wanted 
to show my father my certificate as soon as possible after I 
had parted from my friends. Eustace, promise me that 
you will have a minister to marry us again?” 

“ I have already told you that I would do so. 1 will 
write for a marriage license now, Letty.” 

“ Thank you, dear. You make me feel very happy.” 

“ My dear girl, the chief aim of my life is to make you 
happy,” said Eustace, kissing the color back to her lips. 
He then sat down to write for the coveted license. The 
man was really determined to make Letty his wife legally, 
and felt happy that his adventure was to have such a good 
termination. He was beginning to love the bright young 
girl who clung to him so confidingly with a tender devo- 
tion that he thought he could never experience. 

It may be said of Eustace Fanshawe that the loVe which 
he bore for Letty Fletcher had for the first time showed 
him his own soul. He felt that his past had been full of 
terrible mistakes, and he determined to lead a new and 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


103 


better life now that he had won a pure, good woman^s 
affection, but “ Man proposes and God disposes/^ 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE minister’s SERMON. 

A MONTH had elapsed since Letty FJetcher had so mys- 
teriously disappeared, and she had not returned to Down- 
ham; in fact, no one appeared to know when the minister’s 
daughter was expected home, nor could they discover why 
she had departed from King’s Lynn on the day of the 
picnic in such an unaccountable manner. 

Letty ’s absence from home was more than a nine-days’ 
wonder. Poor girl! she would have bowed her proud head 
in shame if she could have listened to the uncharitable 
comments of her friends and acquaintances. 

Lydia Phillips had a particularly hard time of it. She 
was questioned by some of the most determined scandal- 
mongers in the congregation regarding Miss Letty’s ab- 
sence; but Lydia managed to answer all their questions in 
such a clever manner that she did not gratify their curi- 
osity. 

Lydia’s heart was heavy, for she loved the beautiful girl 
who had deserted them. Lydia •feared that Letty had been 
betrayed by Captain Fanshawe, and had interrogated Lot 
Burden regarding his knowledge of the affair. She could 
not blame him, for he explained how Leeson had deceived 
him; besides, she realized that it would have been impossi- 
ble for Lot to prevent the elopement. She knew that her 
honest-hearted friend deeply deplored her young mistress’s 
conduct, and did all he could, to prove his deep sympathy 
for the minister in his sad trial. 

Bethel Parsonage wore a funereal aspect since Letty’s de- 
parture, for she had been the joy of that household. Her 
beautiful face and merry laugh were sadly missed by those 
who so dearly loved her. Lydia watched over her master 


104 SAINTS AND SINNERS. 

with all affection and reverence. She was grieved to th6 
heart to see his honored head bowed in shame and sorrow 
over his daughter’s behavior. 

The minister of Bethel Chapel struggled bravely to hide 
from the prying eyes of his congregation the terrible men- 
tal agony he was enduring. When Lot Burden brought 
him the sad tidings of Betty’s elopement the unfortunate 
man had been completely prostrated by his anguish, for 
Jacob Fletcher loved his daughter devotedly. She had 
been his constant care ever since her mother’s death, and 
therefore he had lavished all his love upon her. After re- 
ceiving the disgraceful intelligence of her flight he was 
confined to his bed for several days, but on the following. 
Saturday he roused himself from the terrible torpor that 
had seized him. He resolved to make an effort to go into 
the pulpit and preach so as to avoid any occasion for 
malicious gossip. 

Every one who listened to the minister on that Sunday 
remembered his sermon. Every eye in the congregation 
was fixed upon him as he entered the pulpit. 

His face was ghastly, his delicate features were pinched 
and drawn after his recent illness, and the sad, patient ex- 
pression of his countenance was observed by many of his 
people. His text, however, was read in a low but perfect- 
ly distinct tone. 

“ Most dearly beloved, be prudent, and watch in prayers. 
But before all things have a constant mutual charity among 
yourselves, for charity covereth a multitude of sins. 

Dearly beloved brethren, how many of us are really 
charitable? I do not mean that we refuse to give unto the 
poor as far as our means permit us; nor do I mean that 
we forget to give generously toward charitable societies; 
nor contribute when called upon by the ministers of re- 
ligion toward the wants of our numerous mission schools 
and orphan asylums. Few Christians are niggardly toward 
these charities. I mean, dear brethren, that we lack 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


105 


charity of speech. We are all too apt to condemn our 
neighbors, to misjudge them, to attribute selfish motives 
oftentimes to their most generous actions. How often is 
the good name of our neighbors destroyed by some foul 
fabrication which has emanated from the gossiping tongue 
of some uncharitable person? 

“ How many of us possess that rare virtue, charity of 
speech? Think of the sweetness of Christas charity. He 
pardoned even his enemies. He read all their hearts, and 
knew the vileness of human nature; yet He never lacked 
charity of speech. He was ever the Friend of the afflicted. 
His hand was always extended to sinners; His very death 
upon the cross was the grandest act of charity that the 
world ever witnessed. 

“ Charity for poor, suffering, despairing humanity. Oh, 
my friends, be charitable to one another; ‘ judge not, lest 
ye be judged,' for we all stand in need of Christ's charity." 

Mr. Fletcher then spoke of the greatness of the (Saviour's 
love for humanity, and of the selfishness of Christians who 
were continually finding fault with their neighbors. He 
preached a simple, eloquent sermon which impressed his 
hearers as it reproved many of them. 

After the service the minister had to rest in the vestry, 
being completely overcome by weakness. Lot Burden 
came to him and gave him his arm. When they arrived 
at the parsonage, the clergyman was obliged to lie down, 
his exhaustion was so great after preaching, and he was 
suffering from the reaction of his mental agonies. He dis- 
patched Lot Burden for a rector who was visiting one of 
the ministers of West Lynn, to conduct the evening serv- 
ice, as he himself was quite incapable of doing so. 

Still, Mr. Fletcher sturdily tried to do his duty in spite 
of his ill health and mental anguish. Every one whom he 
met inquired for his daughter, and their questions uncon- 
sciously stabbed him like the thrusts of a dagger. Being 
anxious to avoid disclosing the truth, he did not tell those 


106 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


inquisitive scandal- mongers that he did not know Letty’s 
whereabouts. No; he dare not utter the truth; if he had 
done so, his child^s reputation would be ruined at one fell 
stroke. 

Eustace had deceived Letty about the telegram she sup- 
posed he had sent to her father. The captain had not 
dared to do so; he knew that Mr. Fletcher would have fol- 
lowed them. 

Lot Burden had started a rumor that Letty had gone to 
London on a visit. In this the young man believed he was 
doing his duty trying to shield Miss Fletcher’s reputation. 
He had seen her take the London train, and therefore felt 
quite justified in spreading the report which the greater 
part of the neighbors believed; but Deacon Hoggard was 
not among the number. 

The deacon had his own suspicions concerning the min- 
ister’s daughter. He was a shrewd man and a close ob- 
server. He saw that Mi. Fletcher looked ill and care- 
worn; therefore, when a month had nearly elapsed and 
Letty did not return to Downham, he suspected that 
something was wrong; besides, he had other reasons for his 
suspicions. One morning, accompanied by Deacon Brab- 
ble, he called on the minister. 

Lydia ushered them into the study, saying, as she did so: 

“ I will call Mr. Fletcher; he is lying down as he is not 
feeling very well. ” 

“ Nothing serious, I hope,” remarked Deacon Brabble. 

“ I do not think so,” was Lydia’s cold reply. 

“You ought to send for Miss Letty if her father is ill. 
It appears to me she is making rather a long visit. When 
does she intend to return?” 

“I do not know, Mr. Hoggard,” said the housekeeper 
as she left the room to announce to her master that the 
deacons wished to see him. 

When she had gone, Mr. Brabble turned to Deacon Hog- 
gard, and said: 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


107 


‘‘ Doii^t you think it is strange that Miss Letty disap- 
peared so suddenly from the picnic-party?^^ 

Rather. London is a sink of iniquity, Brother Prab- 
ble.^^ 

“ That it is. Brother Hoggard. I never was there but 
once, and 1 never desire to go there again. Satan holds 
possession of that city. It is the modern Sodom. 1 won- 
der that Mr. Fletcher allows his daughter to remain in the 
sinful place.” 

“ I have my suspicions of all that. Brother Prabble; 
and I think, as deacons of Bethel Chapel, we ought to ask 
Mr. Fletcher for an explanation. ” 

‘‘So we ought. Brother Hoggard,” replied the junior 
deacon, with a grave expression on his face. 

Deacon Prabble had a great respect for his friend and 
brother deacon, Samuel Hoggard. He was guided by the 
latter'^s opinions entirely regarding the affairs of the 
Chapel; and he had never been known to differ from Hog- 
gard in any action or on any subject. He was an honest, 
good-natured man, somewhat narrow-minded. He kept a 
grocery store in Downham — in truth, his was the only 
store of the kind in the village until a co-operative one was 
opened in the beginning of the /ear. This shop was situ- 
ated on the principal street not very far from that of the 
deacon; and as he had lost some of his customers since it 
had been opened, he felt very much imbittered against the 
co-operative company, and in consequence thereof was less 
amiable. 

“Brother Prabble, I believe Miss Fletcher does not in- 
tend to return to Downham, therefore you and I must 
ascertain if there are any good reasons for her prolonged 
absence. ” 

“You astonish me. Brother Hoggard,” answered the 
junior deacon. 

“ I fear I would astonish you a great deal more if I told 
yoaall I thought about that young woman.” 


108 


SAlisTS AND SlNNl'JiS. 


“ Indeed! I hope that nothing has happened to Miss 
Fletcher/’ 

‘‘ I will tell you all about it some other time^ Brother 
Prabble.” 

“By the way. Brother Hoggard, 1 mean to call Mr. 
Fletcher’s attention to the co-operative store. He should 
denounce it from the pulpit. How is a man with a large 
family to pay rates and taxes if his business is destroyed? 
Our minister ought to support us.” 

“ You are right. Brother Brabble, so he ought. We are 
men to be proud of. It is such men as you and 1 who are 
the source of England’s greatness. What would the coun- 
try be without the great middle classes? H early all the 
best men of this century have been self-made men.” 

“ So they have. Brother Hoggard,” answered his com- 
panion, smiling. 

Their conversation was broken by the entrance of Mr. 
Fletcher. The minister greeted his deacons cordially, 
then sat down. He looked pale and nervous. Lydia had 
quietly followed her master into the study and appeared to 
be busy looking for something in a large work-basket 
standing on the small table in the corner of the room. 
The faithful woman in reality was seeking a pretext for 
being there because she imagined that the deacons’ call 
boded no good to her master. Lydia, like the minister, 
lived in constant dread that Letty’s elopement would be 
discovered. 

“ Lydia tells us that you do not feel as well as usual,” 
remarked Deacon Hoggard, abruptly. 

“ I have not been feeling very well lately,” replied Mr. 
Fletcher. 

“ I am sorry that we disturbed you,” said Mr. Brabble, 
kindly. “ We called to see you about the meeting of our 
temperance society. Will next Monday evening be con- 
venient to you?” 

“ It will, Mr. Brabble,” answered the minister. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 109 

‘‘ Mr. Fletcher, I wish to call your attention to the co- 
operative shop. I support your chapel, and 3^ou ought to 
support me. This store has nearly ruined me since it has 
been opened. 

“ I can not make a pulpit question of the co-operative 
store, Mr. Prabble. I buy all my groceries from you, but 
I can not force the members of the congregation to do so.^^ 

“ Your sermon last Sunday lasted barely thirty min- 
utes. I timed it by my watch. I pay twenty pounds a 
year for my religion, and I do not want to be done out of 
any of it,^^_chimed in Deacon Hoggard, in an emphatic 
manner. 

“ The truth is, gentlemen, I have been quite ill recent- 
ly, meekly replied their pastor. 

Lydia had heard Deacon Hoggard^s peculiar and dis- 
agreeable remark, and immediately lost her temper. She 
came swiftly over to where that gentleman sat, and said : 

“ How can you expect the minister to preach good ser- 
mons when you come here worrying the life out of him?''^ 

“Really, my good woman, I was. not addressing you,^^ 
answered Mr. Hoggard, impatiently. 

“ I didnT say you were!^^ was Lydians sharp rejoinder as 
she walked over to the other side of the room. 

The deacon paid no attention to her, but said to Mr. 
Fletcher in a sharp, imperative way: 

“ Your daughter has not returned yet?^^ 

“Ho, not yet,^’Mr. Fletcher answered, turning pale 
beneath the watchful scrutiny of Samuel Hoggard. 

“Humph! she appears to like living in London,^’ was 
his remark, as he looked still more suspiciously at the min- 
ister. 

Lydia saw the malignant expression in his cold gray 
eyes, and also that her master was unable to cope with the 
deacon, so she interrupted the conversation a second time: 

“ Do you know the reason why Miss Letty likes to live 
in London?’^ 


110 


SAI^TTS AND SINNERS. 


‘‘No, my good woman, I do not, answered Deacon 
Hoggard. 

“ Because people in London mind their own business. 

“You make a great mistake. The deacons of chapels, 
even in London, inquire into what sort of company their 
ministers^ children go. I hope you know what sort of a 
character the people whom your daughter is visiting bear. 
It is a very dangerous proceeding to intrust such a beauti- 
ful girl as Miss Letty to the care of people with whom you 
are not intimate. 

Mr. Fletcher heard Deacon Hoggard patiently. He was 
both nervous and ill, but in spite of his physical weakness 
the real and noble dignity of the man asserted itself. 

“Mr. Hoggard, you are one of the deacons of Bethel 
Chapel, and you have a right to find fault with my ser- 
mons, but my daughter's affairs concern no one but my- 
self.^’ 

“ I meant no offense, Mr. Fletcher. 

“ Certainly not,^’ chimed in Deacon Prabble. 

“ When are you going to settle Mrs. Bristow ^s business? 
It is time matters were closed. 

“ I expect a man from London next week to take an 
account of your stock and fixtures. 

“You are acting as an unbusiuess-like idiot in this 
affair, Fletcher. Beware! You are making an enemy of 
me. I am a good hater, as you will discover to your cost,^' 
cried the deacon, in a threatening tone. 

“ Come, Brother Hoggard, I must get back to my shop. 
Good-bye, Mr. Fletcher. I hope you will soon get bet- 
ter,"^ said Deacon Prabble, as he hastily shook hands with 
the minister and hurriedly took his departure. He saw 
that his friend Hoggard was not in a very good humor, 
and being a peaceable man, disappeared at once. 

“ Perhaps you will discover your mistake if you do not' 
accept Crisp^s valuation,’^ said the irate deacon as he 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


Ill 


abruptly walked out of the study, slamming the door be- 
hind him. 

The unhappy minister groaned aloud. He was goaded 
almost to madness. He suspected that Samuel Hoggard 
knew that all was not well with Letty. 

’‘It is no use, Lydia; it is sure to come out. I had 
better resign at once.’’^ 

“ Oh, master, it breaks my heart to see you suffer so,^^ 
said the faithful Lydia, as tears of sympathy rolled down 
her cheeks, notwithstanding her efforts to suppress her 
grief. 

“ God^s will be done, child I’"* exclaimed the minister as 
he opened the Bible to seek consolation from its sacred 
pages — that never-failing source of comfort for the suffer- 
ing Christian soul. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

CAPTAIN FANSHAWE’s PAST. 

When Eustace Fanshawe realized that by Clara Rad- 
dles’s death he was released from *the bond which had 
bound them, he felt it was in his power to redeem the 
past. He knew he had betrayed Letty Fletcher, therefore 
his own honor as a gentleman and an officer demanded that 
he should save her from disgrace by immediately making 
her his legal wife. 

He sighed as the trials of the past eight or ten years of 
his life crowded upon his memory. 

He had been in Toronto, Canada, eight years ago, and 
well he remembered the dull dreary year he had spent 
there with his regiment with nothing but the daily drill, 
the parade, the routine of military life, and the provincial 
balls and parties to enliven him. 

He did not admire the dark Canadian belles; he did not 
like Canada; in fact he felt bored, and thought of ex- 
changing into a regiment that was on more active service, 


113 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


until one dark autumn night. He had been lounging aimr 
lessly down one of the principal streets of the city and 
heard his name called. On turning around he saw the 
face of an old English friend. 

When did you arrive, Jack?^^ cordially asked Captain 
Fanshawe, as he shook the new-comer’s hand. 

“ I arrived with my regiment about two weeks ago. I 
inquired of Colonel Baker for you the day after we arrived, 
and he informed me that you had gone out of town.” 

“ Yes, I have been in Quebec on a short leave of ab- 
sence. I only returned yesterday. What hotel are you 
stopping at?” 

“ Oh, I have hired a furnished house. I don’t care 
about hotel life,” replied Captain Raddles. 

“You are as eccentric as ever, my dear boy. For my 
part, I should not fancy bachelor quarters on such a large 
scale.” 

“ Nor would 1; but 1 have brought Clara with me.” 

“ Are you married?” demanded his friend, in surprise. 

“No; Clara is my sister — a charming girl, I assure you.. 
She has come out to keep house for me. We are all alone 
in the world, so I thought 1 had better have her with me. 
Come and dine with us this evening, and I will introduce 
you to my sister. I know she will be pleased to meet you, 
as she has heard me speak so frequently of you. ” 

“ My dear boy, I am not in regulation dinner costume; 
besides, I fear I should intrude, as you can not be settled 
in your new quarters yet,” remarked Captain Fanshawe, 
twirling his mustache with the air of a man who wished to 
decline an invitation politely. 

“ Nonsense, my dear fellow. Clara will be delighted to 
meet you. Come, I will not take a refusal,” said Captain 
Raddles, slipping his arm familiarly under his friend’s. 

They walked rapidly down the street together. Captain 
Fanshawe submitting to be led to his friend’s abode with a 
decided ill grace, for he did not feel the slightest inclina- 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 113 

tion to accept the impromptu invitation which had been 
forced upon him. 

After walking through several streets. Captain Raddles 
came to a low brick dwelling, into the door of which he in- 
serted his latch-key. They passed from the cold, dark 
Canadian night into a lamp-lighted, fire-illumined parlor. 

Captain Fanshawe stood still until his friend said: 

My sister Clara, Captain Fanshawe, of her Majesty^s 
Royal Rifies.'’^ 

Miss Raddles smiled as she slipped out a small white 
hand, raised her luminous eyes and red pouting lips as she 
acknowledged the introduction. 

“ I am pleased to meet Captain Fanshawe; pleased to 
meet any one in this horrid country.-’' 

“ You do not like Canada, Miss Raddles?" remarked 
the captain, as he looked down upon her lovely face. 

‘‘No, Captain Fanshawe, I do not. I am sorry I ever 
came out here with Jack. I have half a mind to go home 
by the next steamer to dear old England." 

“ 1 am sure Jack could not spare you, and you will find 
life pleasant enough here when you become more accus- 
tomed to Canada," smilingly observed Eustace Fanshawe. 

“ I hope so, for I feel decidedly homesick at present," 
sighed the little lady. 

“ Oh, you will feel at home after awhile when you be- 
come acquainted, Clara," said her brother. 

Dinner was announced, and the visitor escorted Miss 
Raddles into the dining-room. Nothing could be gayer or 
pleasanter than the dinner. Jack Raddles recalled their 
old college days,, and told stories of their boyish chums. 
Clara was full of vivacity. She laughed heartily at her 
brother's jokes, though she knew them all by heart. Cap- 
tain Jack's ideas were not strictly original, and he quite 
frequently related his old jokes without remembering that 
his friends had probably heard them before. 

As the young hostess arose from the table. Captain Fan- 


114 


SAIHTS AND SINNERS. 


sliavve gallantly opened the door for her to pass out, and 
she gracefully acknowledged his courtesy. 

In this simple manner these two people had met with 
smiles and without the faintest presentiment of the havoc 
and wretchedness they wer® doomed to work in each other’s 
lives, of the hatred and loathing they were one day to feel 
for each other, of the weight and cankering power of the 
chain, the first link of which had been forged with smiles 
and gracious glances on the first evening of their meeting. 

The gentlemen did not linger long over their wine, but 
soon followed Miss Eaddles into the drawing-room. 

When they had drunk their coffee. Captain Eaddles 
asked his sister to sing. Captain Fanshawe accompanied 
her to the piano and gracefully turned the leaves of the 
music-book for her. Clara sung English ballads charm- 
ingly. Her rich mezzo-soprano voice had a peculiar beauty 
of its own which never failed to impress her hearers. Cap- 
tain Fanshawe was delighted, for he was passionately fond 
of music. He experienced a strange pleasure in listening 
to his beautiful countrywoman. A thrill of ecstasy ran 
through his frame and he totally forgot his surroundings 
until he was rudely recalled to himself by the entrance of 
three or four military gentlemen. 

Their host proposed cards; but Fanshawe declined to 
play. The officers smiled as they saw their friend’s ad- 
miration of their charming hostess. He had looked into 
Clara Eaddles’s beautiful dusky eyes but once and then 
lost his head completely. This gallant officer was a great 
favorite with the fair sex in Toronto. He could have mar- 
ried any of the reigning belles if he had been so inclined, 
but their blandishments were lost on him. He was heart- 
whole until the fatal hour in which he met his friend’s 
sister. 

Miss Eaddles smiled upon the handsome young officer 
shyly. She was not accustomed to such sudden and over- 
powering devotion. She sung all his favorite songs for 


SAIKTS AND SINNEKS. 


115 


him until she became fatigued from the unusual efforts 
she made to please her guest. After she had sung “ Home, 
Sweet Home she rose from the piano somewhat abruptly 
and seated herself in a low rocking-chair near the bright 
grate fire. 

“You have a magnificent voice. Miss Eaddles; I could 
listen to you for hours. I am afraid that 1 have been 
thoughtlessly selfish, for you look fatigued. You have 
been singing nearly two hours by your mantel clock. 
Heigh-ho! how time flies in agreeable society, sighed the 
officer. 

“ I am glad that you appreciate my singing — such as it 
is,^^ murmured Clara. 

“ 1 do, indeed. We have some fair musicians here, but 
there is not a lady in Toronto who can warble as you have 
done this evening. Your only rivals are the birds. You 
must let me bring you some music, said the captain, 
smiling down into the lovely face that was uplifted so shyly 
to his from time to time. 

“ Thank you; you are very kind,’^ replied the young- 
lady as the fire-flames threw their shadows across her dark 
crimson silk and shone upon her dusky loveliness. 

The party broke up at last. Miss Raddles shrunk 
somewhat pettishly from the other gentlemen, and held 
out her hand to Captain Fanshawe as she whispered a soft 
good-night. 

“ I will drop in to-morrow and see you, Fanshawe. I 
want a good old-fashioned chat about old times,"’ observed 
Jack Raddles. 

“ Do so by all means. Jack. I shall expect you— good- 
night,” said the handsome officer as he raised his cap and 
joined his comrades, who were already half-way down the 
street. 

Captain Fanshawe sat down for an hour before he retired 
and thought of the charming girl whom he had seen for 
the first time that evening. He indulged in a strange de- 


116 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


licions reverie, iu which Clara figured. He endeavored to 
recall what he knew of Jack Raddles’s family, but he could 
not remember having heard any particulars regarding the 
worldly position of his friend’s relatives. 

At last he went to bed, but he could not woo sleep to 
his eyelids. He tossed feverishly through the dark morn- 
ing hours, and kept repeating the name of Clara to him- 
self. The music of the songs that she had sung for him 
still lingered in his memory; he grew cold and hot as he 
thought: 

“ I wonder if she has left a lover behind her in Eng- 
land?” 

At last he fell asleep and dreamed that Clara was stand- 
ing on board of a yacht, and he stood beside her amid a 
merry party. Suddenly a storm arose, and they were all 
ingulfed in the angry waves. He awoke with a start, and 
found the sunbeams playing hide-and-seek across his cham- 
ber windows. Quickly arising, he looked at his watch and 
was surprised to find that it was nine o’clock and that he 
had overslept himself. 

When Captain Raddles called he found his friend linger- 
ing over the breakfast- table. They had a chat over old 
times, passing several pleasant hours together before they 
separated. Eustace Fanshawe was obliged to decline his 
friend’s invitation to dinner on the following Thursday, 
owing to a previous engagement. It is needless to say that 
this he much regretted, as it deprived him of an oppor- 
tunity to cultivate Clara Raddles’s acquaintance. 

Captain Fanshawe had felt a yearning for love all his 
life, such as most human beings feel who have not been 
fortunate enough to have brothers or sisters spared to them 
after the demise of their parents. The only relative that 
he had was an uncle. Fanshawe had entered the army the 
year aftey he left college, and went to India with his regi- 
ment, where he had distinguished himself during an In- 
dian outbreak. Having received honorable mention in 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


117 


several of the dispatches, he was promoted for his bravery, 
but at length, being severely wounded, he was obliged to 
return to England to recruit his health. 

It was lonely work coming home. No friendly face 
greeted him as he left the steamer and set his foot once 
more upon English soil. After a sojourn of six months 
in his native land he exchanged into a Canadian regiment, 
as his physician thought the North American climate 
would invigorate him and completely restore his health. 
His first year there had almost closed when he met Clara 
Raddles, and for the first time in his life he became inter- 
ested in a woman. Two days after his introduction to his 
old friend^s beautiful sister he presented himself at Cap- 
tain Raddles^s door with an armful of music. The maid 
showed him into the drawing-room, where he found the 
lady who had fascinated him so strangely. 

“ Oh, I am so glad that you have called!” exclaimed 
Clara, as she gave him her hand. 

“I am pleased to find you at home and alone, said 
Eustace, as he handed Clara the music he had brought 
with him. 

‘‘Oh, what quantities of music! how kind you are to 
think of me! All the new songs. I do not know how I 
can thank you enough.” 

“By allowing me to call on you very often. Miss Rad- 
dles. You can not imagine how delightful it is for me to 
see an English lady^s face, and to be welcomed as I have 
been by you to-day,” stammered Eustace. 

Clara blushed becomingly at the gallant captain^s com- 
plimentary speech. She obligingly tried over the new 
songs. Her admirer lingered for several hours at her side, 
and was only brought, back to the realities of life by the 
time-piece admonishing him that it was six o’clock, and 
then he reluctantly bade his hostess adieu. 

After this call Captain Fanshawe called almost daily 
upon Clara. He was her escort to church and all the 


118 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


places of amusement that she visited, and his attentions to 
tlie beautiful English girl soon became a matter of gossip 
in Toronto. 

Olara^s brother was fond of his old friend, but still he 
was not overanxious to have the captain as a brother-in- 
law. Jack desired his sister to marry a man of wealth and 
position, and when Eustace Fanshawe asked his consent to 
his marriage with Clara, Captain Eaddles frankly stated 
his objection. Love, however, laughs at prudence, and 
seldom listens to reason; so it proved in the case of Clara 
Eaddles. She was married one winter morning to Captain 
Fanshawe in the parlor of her brother’s house. A young 
lady relative of one of the officers acted as bride-maid, and 
Sanderson, of “ Ours,” was best man. 

The captain was blindly and insanely happy — with that 
utter bliss that we only feel in the first days of our youth 
and grossest folly. The memory of these few happy 
months lingered in his memory during the dark days that 
followed his honey-moon. 

A month after his marriage his uncle died in India, leav- 
ing to Eustace his estate and ample fortune. If he had 
been a grasping money -lover he would have rejoiced when 
he received the intelligence, for Fanshawe Manor was one 
of the oldest as well as the most beautiful country-seats in 
England; but Eustace had been too deeply attached to his 
uncle to feel anything but sorrow and jiain at the news of 
his death. The dead man had never married, his belief 
being that a soldier should remain unwedded. He had 
inherited Fanshawe Manor from his father, but never re- 
sided there except during his brief sojourns in England. 
The colonel could never be prevailed upon to retire from 
the army and settle down to the quiet life of an English 
squire. He loved his profession too well to throw up his 
commission. 

The first shadow in Captain Fanshawe’s married life was 
his wife’s evident satisfaction at his increased wealth and 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


119 


complete lack of sympathy in his grief. Clara had been 
indignant at her brother when he dared to oppose her 
marriage with the man of her choice on account of the lat- 
ter^s limited means, and therefore her exultation was great 
when her husband inherited all his nucleus wealth. Two 
months after her marriage Captain Fanshawe’s regiment 
was ordered home. Clara was in ecstasies, having never 
liked Canada, and had always pined for her native land. 

Captain Fanshawe recalled how happy he was when he 
stood upon the deck of the steamer with his bride of a few 
months beside him as he bade his brother-in-law and his 
Canadian friends adieu. 

Y"ea, he realized with what Joy he looked forward to in- 
stalling Clara as the mistress of Fanshawe Manor. He 
shuddered as he thought how the woman whom he had 
loved and wedded had disappointed his anticipations. 


CHAPTER XV. 

MAN AND WIPE. 

Captain Fanshawe heard the neighboring clocks 
strike one; still he sat and mused over his unhappy past. 

How well he remembered how his wife^s strange conduct 
alarmed and mortified him after their return to England. 
At that time he was still very much enamored of his beau- 
tiful spouse, and showed her every attention, devoting his 
newly acquired wealth to gratify her ambition and all her 
wishes. They went on a continental tour, visiting all the 
various places of interest in the various cities. Returning 
to London, they moved into their handsome residence on 
Harley Street in the vicinity of Regent's Park, which his 
deceased uncle would never let to strangers, for the reason 
that he usually occupied it during his brief visits to Eng- 
land, preferring it to Fanshawe Manor. 

A marked change had taken place in Clara's disposition, 
which both surprised and grieved her husband. She was 


120 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


no longer the quiet domestic girl he had married; she con- 
stantly craved excitement; in fact, she had suddenly be- 
come one of the most popular society leaders in London. 
She made a charming hostess, and gave sumptuous enter- 
tainments to which invitations were eagerly sought. 

At first the captain was very much pleased to see his 
lovely wife enjoy herself, but it made him feel sad to see 
that she did not appear to care for either his comfort or 
happiness. He had dreamed of a far different home life 
to the one which he now led. The season was rapidly 
drawing to a close, but Clara was still the gayest of the 
gay. Her husband was no longer flattered when his guests 
expressed their strong admiration of his wife and superb 
house. He was now living far beyond his income, large as 
it was. 

Clara was naturally extravagant. She spent money 
recklessly until her husband was obliged to remonstrate 
with her. His caution met with very little heed, because 
she thought he begrudged her the means required to en- 
tertain their friends. Captain Fanshawe was silent for 
months after regarding his financial affairs, until he lost a 
large sum of money by an unfortunate investment; then 
he suddenly found himself cramped for funds. He went 
to his wife and informed her of the circumstance, implor- 
ing her not to be so recklessly extravagant. Clara simply 
laughed at what she termed her husband’s miserly ways. 
She supposed that his wealth was inexhaustible, and conse- 
quently the loss of twenty thousand pounds which he com- 
plained of could not materially reduce his ample means. 

It was strange that Clara would not listen to reason, and 
that she could still pursue the same course after her hus- 
band’s warning. However, the day of reckoning arrived 
sooner than even Captain Fanshawe anticipated. A gay 
party was assembled at Fanshawe Manor by Clara’s invita- 
tion. Henry Herbert was one of the invited guests. He 
was an old and sincere friend of Captain Fanshawe, and 


SAINTS and sinners. 


121 


being a bariisfcer in good practice, his society was culti- 
vated by every one. With his usual quick intuition he 
perceived that matters were not as harmonious between 
his friend and his wife as they should be. He was sorry to 
see the shadow of carping care upon his friend^s brow. 

One afternoon he entered Captain Fanshawe^s study, 
and found him so absorbed in his work that he did not 
perceive his guest enter the room until he touched him on 
the shoulder. 

“ Come and take a ride with me, it will do you good,^^ 
said the lawyer, kindly. 

“I suppose a little fresh air would do me good, Her- 
bert, and I would be glad to go with you, but I want to 
see if I can arrange some of my accounts. Ah! if I could 
get rid of everything, and have only a couple of hundred a 
year, I should be happier sighed the unfortunate man. 

‘‘ Come, come! You must not allov^ yourself to be 
worried by filthy lucre. You will come round right 
enough; you must live more quietly, that is all.^'’ 

“ Live quietly? Yes, I would with pleasure; but she 
won^t let me, Herbert. You have noticed what the season 
in town cost me — it is really frightful. Then these heavy 
failures, the depreciation of Indian bonds have left me in 
one short year well-nigh a ruined mau,^^ sighed Eustace. 

Come, it is not so bad as that,’^ said Herbert. 

The debt-burdened man looked at his friend sadly as he 
replied: 

‘‘lam not exaggerating, Herbert. I give you my word, 
debts of hers are coming in every day, and I do not know 
where to get the money to meet them.^^ 

“ Put a stop to such a course of ruinous extravagance 
at once,^^ promptly suggested Mr. Herbert. 

“ I have endeavored to do so. I shall speak to her once 
more to-day. Herbert, you are the best friend I possess. 
My wife, for whom I have made many sacrifices, and whom 
I worshiped so passionately, loves me not at all; no, and I 


122 


SAIKTS AKD SINKERS. 


do not believe she ever did. She feigned to do so at first; 
now she does not care to even act her part.^’ 

“ Perhaps her head has been turned by your sudden 
accession to wealth. Take her abroad, live quietly for a 
year or so, and she will be all you desire. 

Eustace shook his head at his friend’s reasonable pro- 
posal, and there was a painful silence between them for a 
few moments. 

“ What do you advise?’ ' demanded Fanshawe, some- 
what impatiently. 

“ I am perfectly aware that the man is a fool who steps 
in between husband and wife, but for the life of me I can 
not help saying to you: Exert your authority. Put an 
end at once and forever to these caprices and extrava- 
gances. Close Fanshawe Manor; disband your establish- 
ment, and — try Greenland — see what that will do. You 
must take strong measures, Fanshawe, for my opinion is 
that the time has come when it is absolutely necessary for 
your future happiness that you should take them — and 
take them at once.” 

“ Do you think that she would consent to leave her sum- 
mer friends whose flattery has become the very essence of 
her life?” 

‘‘But Mrs. Fanshawe ought to listen to reason; surely 
your interests should be hers.” 

“ 1 know what you say is true, my friend, but Clara is a 
very peculiar woman. I sometimes think she has grown 
to hate me. Her moods are variable. One day she has 
the most extravagant spirits, and the next she is gloom 
itself.” 

“ Does she enjoy good health, Fanshawe?” 

“ The very best,” replied the unhappy man, as he arose 
and walked to the window to hide his emotion. His friend 
shortly followed him and put his arm across the captain’s 
shoulder. Eustace turned to Herbert and said : 

“ 1 will follow your advice, Herbert. If Clara would 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


123 


only listen to reason, I could face the future with a light 
heart. 

‘‘I see madame approaching. As I am aware that she 
is not fond of me, I will be off; but, I say, have it ouf 

With this sensible bit of advice Henry Herbert left the 
room as Mrs. Fanshawe came through one of the low 
French windows. 

‘‘ Oh, you're here! 1 thought perhaps you had gone out 
for the whole day, leaving me alone, as usual, to amuse 
our guests." 

“ I have not been away from the house all day, Clara. 
I am not surprised that you should not know it — you never 
seek me. It seems to matter but little to you where I may 
be; your husband is your last consideration," said Fan- 
shawe, bitterly. 

‘‘ Need we waste time in discussing such a question?" 
replied Mrs. Fanshawe, shrugging her shoulders. 

‘‘ Oh, Clara, what is the shadow that has come between 
us? what is this coldness that has arisen and keeps you 
from me? Tell me— is it that you love me no longer?" 

Eeally, Eustace, it is hardly necessary to have a scene. 
You remember that you gave me no peace until I con- 
sented to become your wife. My brother opposed our mar- 
riage, because he thought that it would be impossible for 
me to be happy with a poor man. Jack was right. We 
would have been wretchedly unhappy if your uncle had not 
died and left you his estates," coolly rejoined Mrs. Fan- 
shawe. 

‘‘ Clara, have you really no love for me? Did you 
merely act a part and feign an affection that you never 
felt?" the unhappy husband asked, with a weary sigh. 

“ I thought I loved you. You were the first handsome 
man that had sought me; you made a charming lover. I 
knew nothing of the world, and 1 imagined that I loved 
you. " 

“You imagined that you loved me?" exclaimed Eus- 


124 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


tace. “ AVhat do you know of love, to think that it can 
be mistaken for an3dhing but what it is? Love is felt, not 
fancied; felt in the thrill that shakes every nerve at the 
sight of the loved one; felt in the gathering to one fierce 
focus of all the faculties to serve — all the soul to reverence 
— all the will to do. You thought you loved me! Who 
ever mistook hunger for fullness — tears for laughter — 
night for day — death for life? What they are to each 
other is the heart that loves not to the heart that loves. 

Such love is terrible exclaimed Mrs. Faiishawe, 
shuddering. 

‘‘ All men^s love should be so. A woman should love 
her husband with a purer, better afiection even. Oh, 
Clara! you will never know how passionately I loved you 
— how I love you still. If you knew how my heart yearns 
for one kind word, one fond look. Are you a woman, that 
you refuse me even them? Few men would bear what I 
have borne from you silently and uncomplainingly. I 
have endured your coldness, nay, your mockery, hoping 
that time would soften you. Can not we live as husband 
and wife should live, sharing eacli other^s burdens?^^ 
earnestly pleaded the captain, with tears in his eyes. 

Clara did not appear to notice his emotion, for she an- 
swered him coldly: 

It is your own fault, Eustace, if I have ceased to care 
for you.^^ 

Captain Fanshawe was completely taken back. His 
nerves were shattered by his wife^s treatment, also by the 
anxiety that his financial embarrassments gave him. 

“ Will you please explain what I have done that has 
been offensive to you?” 

Clara looked at her husband in angry amazement. For 
a moment she was silent, her face flushed hotly, then she 
said, bitterly: 

“You have grumbled at every debt I have incurred 
since we returned to England; lately, when I needed 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


125 


money to liquidate a debt of honor, you absolutely refused 
to give it to me/'’ 

Eustaoe Fanshawe looked at the woman before him. 
The misery in his face would have wrung the heart of a 
true wife. As he gazed on her cold, beautiful features, he 
forgot the conciliating words he had prepared himself to 
use; his patience suddenly gave way, and he said, sharply: 

Clara, do you not blush to remind me of your debts of 
honor. At a common race-course you gambled, betted, 
and lost fourteen hundred pounds, though I had forbidden 
you to make a single bet.'*'’ 

‘‘ You refused to give me the sum when I required it,^^ 
she replied, harshly. 

Her husband frowned, and his eyes blazed out upon her 
for one moment. These signs of anger should have warned 
her to be more cautious, but apparently she had given no 
notice to the threatening expression on his face, for she 
continued : 

“ It ought to have been paid more punctually than if 
you had lost it yourself; you said you would pay it when 
it was convenient to you; you have not paid it yet. 1 can 
not forgive you.^’ 

Forgive me? Listen to this gentle wife!^^ cried Fan- 
shawe, in a rage, his self-control almost vanishing at his 
wife^s words. 

I have only told you the truth, sir,^^ Clara answered, 
coolly. Her short and sharp reply irritated her husband 
still more, but he contrived to say: 

“ Clara, if you have forgotten your duty, do not strive 
so hard to make me forget my love. •’ ’ 

Love! I hate the word!’^ she cried, impatiently, as 
she walked toward the door; but her husband, with a few 
rapid strides, reached her side. She turned and looked at 
him with flashing eyes as he laid his hand on her arm. 

‘‘You shall not leave this room until we arrive at some 


126 


SAINTS AND SIKNKRS. 


understanding/^ said Captain FanshawC;, looking at his 
wife sternly. 

“ What do you meaii?^^ asked Clara, shaking oft* his de- 
taining hand. 

You compel me to teach you harshly what your duty 
is. If your conscience does not tell you, I must inform 
you,'’^ said her husband, in a low, determined voice. 

‘‘ By all means speak plainly, answered Clara, as she 
sunk on the sofa and commenced fanning herself. Their 
long interview bored her very much, and she did not at- 
tempt to conceal it. Her husband came and stood in front 
of her. He sighed deeply as he looked at this beautiful 
woman who was his wife. Alas! she did not care to hide 
how distasteful his presence had become to her. 

All his self-command vanished as he saw her indiffer- 
ence, and he said, sternly: 

“ I mean to put a stop to your extravagance. You have 
brought me to the verge of ruin; disaster has befallen me 
in many ways, and your conduct has made my position 
almost unendurable. I am aware that you have formed 
many schemes of pleasure which you must forego. 1 for- 
bid you to invite another guest here, for it is my intention 
to close up Fanshawe Manor the first of next month. I 
shall get rid of the whole establishment, sell the carriages 
and horses, and let you live quietly at some cheap place on 
the Continent. I shall rejoin my regiment. 

“ And suppose I do not choose to live quietly at some 
cheap pi ace?’ ^ remarked the lady, with a perceptible sneer. 

“You will have no other alternative, madame.-’^ 

“ Captain Fanshawe, suppose we break the bond that 
has become odious to both of us?^^ cried Clara, rising to 
her feet excitedly. 

“ Do you wish to separate from pae, Clara? Can it be 
possible you no longer wish to live with me?’^ Eustace 
asked in a husky voice as he looked sorrowfully into the 
fiushed face of his wife. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


127 


“ I sli.all leave Faiisliawe Manor when Mrs. Gordon does. 
I will go to London with her to meet Jack, whom I expect 
will arrive on Tuesday, as he sailed from Halifax ten days 
ago. With him you may arrange any business matters 
concerning our separate establishments that you see fit.’^ 

Eustace Fanshawe heard her reply with astonishment. 
Could she be the same girl that he had wooed and mar- 
ried? 

“So be it. I will go to Egypt with my regiment. 
When one^s life comes to an end at home, it is well to be 
of some service abroad. Oh, Clara, why could we not have 
lived together happily The unhappy husband groaned as 
he asked the question. 

“ Because we were not suited to each other, I suppose,” 
remarked Mrs. Fanshawe, philosophically, as she abruptly 
walked out of the room. 

He felt the sting of his wife^s parting speech for years 
afterward. 

Time had changed the love he bore Clara Raddles into 
absolute loathing, for she would not allow him to obtain a 
divorce. She was aware that the bond which he had forged 
for himself in an hour of madness made him feel he was 
her unwilling slave for life. 

Eustace Fanshawe shuddered when he thought of Clara’s 
awful fate. He regretted he had felt so vindictive toward 
the woman who had been his wife. 

He resolved ' to let the dead past be buried in oblivion 
and begin a new life. 

He believed he would forget the past under Le tty’s 
sweet, womanly influence. 

Alas! Eustace Fanshawe’s hopes of future happiness 
were doomed never to be realized. 


m 


SAINTS AND SINNEHS. 


CHAPTER XVL 

LETT y’S LETTEK. 

Day after day the minister waited and watched the post- 
man as he went on his rounds. Letters he received from 
various parties, but not a line from his daughter. Every 
day he awakened with hope, and every night retired with 
despair since his daughter deserted him. 

Lydia disliked to hand him his mail, dreading to see the 
look of pathetic suffering upon his face as he scanned the 
handwriting of each letter he received. Then being always 
disappointed, he would say: 

“ Lydia, she will write. She could not he so cruel as 
not to send me one line. 

The faithful housekeeper’s heart ached for her master’s 
misery, but alas, she could not ameliorate it in any man- 
ner. 

Lydia and Lot Burden were the only faithful friends 
Mr. Fletcher had during the month that had passed since 
Letty’s elopement. They knew the truth, and deeply 
sympathized with the unhappy father. 

Ralph Kingsmill called at the parsonage several times, 
but Mr. Fletcher refused to see him. He felt that Letty 
had wronged Ralph, and dreaded meeting the young man 
and listening to his just reproaches of the misguided girl. 

The minister was a true follower of Christ — a man whose 
whole life was a perfect example of the teachings of 
his Divine Master. His Heavenly Father had permitted 
this great trial to fall on him, and his only prayer was for 
resignation to bear his cross. 

Five weeks had now gone by since Letty’s departure 
from her home. One morning, as the minister had as 
usual taken up his position by the window to watch for 
the postman, he was too impatient to wait for his knock. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


129 


How many of us have waited in vain for the rap or ring 
of the letter-carrier when we expected to hear from our ab- 
sent friends and relatives! No man is so welcome as he 
who goes his daily rounds, bringing tidings of gladness or 
sorrow wherever he tarries. 

Lydia entered the study and saw her master standing in 
his place by the window. She laid her hand on his arm, 
saying: 

“ I can not bear to see you standing there waiting for a 
letter which never comes. 

“ Oh, Lydia! I will soon hear from her. She has a 
fond, loving heart. She must think of her old home and 
me very, very often. 

“ Then why does she not write to you, sir?” 

“ She may be ill. Lydia, was I ever cruel to her?” 

‘‘No, master, you were one of the best and most in- 
dulgent of fathers,” replied the housekeeper, earnestly. 

“ I think she left us because she did not w^nt to marry 
Ealph Kingsmill. I am sorry I ever tried to influence her 
to do so. She always was peculiar. Do you think she 
loved Captain Fanshawe?” 

“1 do not know, master. I only saw him once. He 
sent her several bouquets, and Lot Burden heard that she 
was seen walking with him one evening. I suppose he 
saved her life that night upon the river, and she felt grate- 
ful to him; besides, he was a very handsome man. Young 
ladies generally take a fancy to dashing army officers.” 

“ So they do, Lydia. Her aunt Letty did the same 
thing. My poor wife often wept over her sister’s uncer- 
tain fate. Years after, when the unfortunate woman dis- 
covered our abode and wandered to our door to die, we 
learned that she had eloped with an officer. Merciful 
Providence! spare me such a trial! Let me learn my dar- 
ling’s fate!” said the minister, fervently. 

As he finished speaking the postman’s knock resounded 
through the house. 


130 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ Go, go, Lydia, go!’ cried Mr. Fletcher, excitedly. 

The housekeeper hurried to the door and speedily re- 
turned with a letter. 

“ I believe it is from Miss Letty, sir.” 

“ It is, Lydia. It is her handwriting,” answered the 
minister, nervously looking at the long-expected letter, 
which he kissed repeatedly and tore open. 

“ Argyle House, Edinburgh, Scotland, 
“ Jnly mn, 1876 . 

“ My dear Father, — You must deem me a rash, un- 
grateful girl. 1 left home in such a strange manner, I 
fear 1 have caused you a great deal of anxiety. I have 
been ashamed to write to you, but to-day 1 could no longer 
resist the temptation of sending you a few lines. 

. “ ‘ Captain Fanshawe telegraphed to you upon our arrival 
in London, therefore you know where 1 was, and with 
whom.’ ” * 

“ The villain!” exclaimed Lydia, interrupting the read- 
ing of Letty’s letter. 

“ He deceived her. He never sent me any message,” 
said Mr. Fletcher, indignantly. 

” Read on, master,” said Lydia, sharply. 

“ ‘ 1 missed the boat on the evening of our Sunday-school 
picnic, and accidentally meeting Captain Fanshawe, he 
offered to row me up to the railway station in King’s Lynn, 
where we intended to take the train. He purchased tickets 
for Downham, but owing to a mistake we got into the 
wrong train. 

“ ‘ Upon our arrival in London Captain Fanshawe took 
me to a hotel, and treated me with the greatest respect. 
The next day he prevailed on me to accompany him to 
Gretna Green. He has made me his wife according to the 
laws of Scotland. But as I was not satisfied with our 
Scotch marriage, I have begged Captain Fanshawe to have 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


131 


another marriage ceremony performed, and he has prom- 
ised me that we shall be married by the Reverend Dr. 
Shaw, and he has written for a marriage license. 

“ ‘ I trust that you will pardon me for yielding to the 
promptings of my own heart. I love Eustace Fanshawe 
dearly, and I am sure you will like him when you know 
how noble and disinterested he is. I hope to be able to 
pay you a visit very soon. With love to Lydia, 

“ ‘ Your atlectionate daughter, 

“ ‘ Letty Fanshawe.^ ’’ 

“ Do you think she is really married, master asked 
Lydia, in a very serious tone of voice as she looked up in- 
cjuiringly at Mr. Fletcher. 

“ 1 do not know, child, but 1 believe my poor girl thinks 
she is Captain Fanshawe's wife,"^ said Mr. Fletcher, 
slowly. 

‘ ‘ Of course she does, or she would not have written you 
such a letter.^' 

“ Lydia, 1 am afraid that all is not right. We would 
have received the telegraphic message if it had been sent. 
Why did not the captain wed my daughter in London in- 
stead of taking her to Gretna Green?” 

“Because he is a double-dyed scoundrel!” answered 
Lydia, her eyes blazing with rage. 

“ 1 fear you are right, Lydia. Captain Fanshawe is 
one of those vandals of society who do not care in the least 
what hearts they break or whose homes they dishonor. T 
must go after her, Lydia, and try to bring the prodigal 
home,” said the minister, with tears in his tender blue 
eyes. 

“ Yes, master. It is the best plan; in fact anything is 
better than to suffer as you have lately. Do you think 
that Miss Letty will return?” 

“ I do. I will reason with her. If she really is Captain 
Fanshawe’s wife 1 will have tlie marriage published at once 


133 


SAIKTS AKD SINKERS. 

and put an end to the gossip that her strange disappear- 
ance caused. But if matters are as we fear, I will prevail 
upon her to return with me. The captain will desert her 
when he becomes tired of her charms. I will at least try 
to save her soul. I shall take the next train that leaves 
for Edinburgh.'’^ 

“ What time does it go?’^ inquired Lydia. 

“ At ten o^clock. It is half past nine now, and I just 
have time to catch it. Bring me my overcoat and um- 
brella as soon as you can. 

Lydia ran out of the room and quickly returned with the 
articles for which Mr. Fletcher had asked. As she helped 
the minister to put on his coat he said to her : 

“ Have her room ready, Lydia. 

Yes, master, it is ready now.'’^ 

“ Put some flowers on her toilet-table. She loves flow- 
ers, you know. ” 

“ Yes, master. I will make everything as bright as 
possible about the house. Give Miss Letty my love, and 
tell her I shall be glad to have her home again. 

“ 1 will, Lydia, answered the minister, in a low, 
tremulous tone of voice. 

At this moment one of the low French windows opening 
on the garden was violently opened, and Ealph Kingsmill 
abruptly entered the apartment. There was an eager ex- 
pression on his face flushed with excitement. He hastily 
glanced around the room, and then stood looking intently 
at the minister. There was a painful silence for a few 
minutes. This was the first time the two men had met 
since the memorable night when Lot Burden had brought 
the news of Letty ’s elopement to Bethel Parsonage. 

As they stood looking into each other’s eyes all the hid- 
eous pain and agony of that night came back to both. 
Ealph remembered how eagerly he had returned to Down- 
ham, his heart throbbing with joy as he approached the 


SAINTS ANi) SINKEKS. 13S 

clergyman's abode. Alas! his joyful anticipations had 
been soon changed into the deepest sorrow. 

The young man had suffered deeply during the ensuing 
time^ and looked pale and care-worn from anxiety. He 
had begged Mr. Fletcher to see him, but the minister had 
absolutely refused. He dreaded to see the reflection of his 
own misery in Ralph's face. 

“ Mr. Fletcher, I have forced myself upon you, for I 
can not endure this suspense any longer. Have you heard 
from Letty at all?" 

“ My poor lad, 1 have," was Mr. Fletcher's reply in a 
sad tone. 

“ 1 know from the sorrowful expression of your face 
that your news is not' good news. Where is she? Has he 
thrown her off Has he married her? SpeakJ I pray you, 
speak!" 

Poor Ralph! He was almost beside himself, and his 
voice quivered and almost broke into a low sob as he asked 
the questions. 

“1 do not know. I can not say," answered Mr. 
Fletcher. 

“ I must know! It is five weeks yesterday 'since she left 
home. Tell me where he is. I have an account to settle 
with that man. My wrongs are greater than yours." 

Ralph's eyes flashed with the rage that was consuming 
him. 

“ 1 will not tell you where to find Captain Fanshawe. 
There is murder is your heart," said Mr. Fletcher. 

“ Oh, I must find him! I must find him! 1 must stand 
face to face with this villain who in the sight of Heaven is 
worse than any assassin. " 

“ My wrongs are much greater than yours, though you 
may not think so. She was your promised wife. True; 
but she is my daughter. She has bowed my head in shame; 
she has tarnished an honest name. I have suffered untold 
tortures since she deserted me. 1 have walked this room for 


134 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 

hours and hours trying to be calm, trying to be patient, try- 
ing to school my rebellious heart to bear this awful trial 
my Heavenly Father has allowed to fall on me. I pity your 
anguish, my boy. Do you pity mine? I blush before you 
because it is my daughter who has been the cause of your 
suffering. Try to bear your burden like a man. Think 
no more of Letty. She is lost to you. 

“ Ah, sir, I can do naught but think of her. I shall 
think of her until the hour of my death. There is so 
much mystery connected with her elopement that it has 
puzzled me. I don’t believe she ever intended to go to 
London with that scoundrel.” 

‘ ‘ There you are right. She has written to me that she 
failed to meet her companions in time on the night of the 
picnic. 1 suppose she loitered too long in the woods. She 
(aime across this man, who offered to take her to Kiijg’s 
Lynn, where she could come home by rail. The tickets 
were purchased for Downham, but by some error they 
took the London train. ” 

“Mr. Fletcher, my heart told me Letty never deserted 
us of her own accord. She was trapped — just as an inno- 
cent hare is/ caught. I see the whole thing. Captain 
Fanshawe followed her to the picnic, they probably had a 
conversation together in the woods. That was why she 
missed the boat. If they got into the wrong train he knew 
it. I will never rest until I stand face to face with this 
man. He shall give me the only satisfaction he has in his 
power,” said Kalph, passionately. 

“ Leave your vengeance to God,” said the minister, 
solemnly. 

Ralph’s face flushed hotly at his old friend’s reproof, 
but he made no reply. The next moment he was alone; 
alone with his impotent wrath, his wounded love, his heart- 
ache-; alone with sorrow that tore his breast. 

Mr. Fletcher walked hastily down the garden path fol- 
lowed by Lydia. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. ] 35 

“ I hope 1 will not miss my train; I only have fifteen 
minutes to catch it,” said the minister, looking at his 
watch. 

‘‘ 1 hope that you will be in - time, sir. Be sure to give 
Miss Letty my love, and tell her that I will be glad to wel- 
come her home.^^ 

‘‘ I shall not forget, Lydia. 

“ When do you think you will return, master?’^ 

“ I hope to do so to-morrow night if I can prevail on 
my poor girl to return with me. Should I discover that 
she is legally Captain Fanshawe's wife, I will return in a 
later train. If I should be detained by any unforeseen oc- 
currence, I will send you a telegram. Good-bye, Lydia, 
said Mr. Fletcher, shaking hands with the anxious woman. 

“ Good-bye, sir,^^ answered Lydia, wiping the tears from 
her eyes. 

After the minister left the room, Ralph Kingsmill sat 
with his head buried in his hands. He was utterly pros- 
trated. The clergyman had not told him what he particu- 
larly desired to know. If he could only discover where 
Letty was! If he could only hear from her own lips that she 
was an honored, happy wife, he would, he thought, be con- 
tent to leave England and forget the cruel blow she had 
dealt him. 

He heard Lydia come in and close the hall door and he 
arose to leave. As he did so he saw an envelope on the 
floor. He hastily picked it up. 

“ It is Letty’s writing!'’^ he cried. 

“ Argyle House, Edinburgh, was printed on the en- 
velope. Ralph read the printed address and saw by the 
postmark that the letter had been mailed the previous 
day. His heart beat violently. 

“ Thank Heaven!^ he exclaimed, I have obtained the 
clew I sought. I will find my man if he is in Edinburgh.^’ 

He put the envelope in his pocket and took his departure 
from the house as abruptly as he had effected his entrance. 


136 


SAIKTS AND SINNEES. 


CHAPTER XVIL 

ORDERED TO INDIA. 

Captain Fanshawe^s suite of apartments at the Argyle 
House in Edinburgh were f unished luxuriously, especially 
the drawing-room, which had a cheerful home-like appear- 
ance. 

The dark crimson velvet furniture and curtains con- 
trasted agreeably with the light moquette carpet. The 
chief charm of the suite, however, was a small stone bal- 
cony with steps on each side of it leading to the hotel 
grounds. The garden being carefully cultivated, was 
always a pleasant resort, even during the oppressive July 
nights. 

Twilight was falling misty and blue as Leeson entered 
the drawing-room to light the gas. The hum of many 
voices in the noisy streets echoed through the open win- 
dows. Though the evening was very warm there was a 
slight breeze blowing which made the heat endurable. 
The streets were crowded with people; the lamps were 
already lighted and twinkled through the summer gloaming. 

Leeson had just succeeded in arranging the lights of the 
apartment to his satisfaction, when his master entered the 
room in full evening-dress. 

‘‘We leave by the early train to-morrow, Leeson, and 
sail on Friday,^^ said the captain, as he opened the news- 
paper which lay on the table. 

“ Very well, sir. 1 will have everything ready. May I 
ask if your lady goes with us?’’ 

“ Certainly; but do not say a word about India to her. 
It will be time enough to have a scene before we sail,” 
was the captain’s impatient remark. 

Leeson looked at his master a moment as if he hesitated 
about saying something. He lingered about the room in a 


SAIKTS AKB SINNERS. 137 

listless sort of fashion which at last attracted his master’s 
attention. 

Captain Fanshawe looked up from his newspaper, and 
asked : 

“ Leeson, do you wish to speak to me?^^ 

‘‘ Yes, sir, I do. Your lady keeps asking me if I will 
prove that she is your lawful wife. I don't know what 
answer to make her." 

“ You had better not commit yourself until I hear from 
my lawyer. Can I depend on you, Leeson?" 

“ Certainly, sir," answered Leeson, with an injured air, 
as he walked out of the room. 

The gallant captain was evidently ill at ease, for he threw 
aside his paper without looking over its columns. 

He arose and looked at the -clock. 

“ I wish the evening's mail would come. I wonder if it 
is possible for me to make Letty my legal wife? Pshaw! I 
am almost beside myself when 1 think of the past. Was 
there ever such cursed luck as this India business? How 
will Letty take the news? I will not give her up. She 
shall go to India with me. Hang it! I love the little witch 
better than 1 thought I could ever love any woman again," 
said the captain to himself. 

The captain's wish was gratified, for Leeson now ap- 
peared with the evening's mail, which, he handed to his 
master and withdrew. 

Eustace Fanshawe eagerly looked over his letters. He 
saw one addressed to him in the clear, bold, legible hand 
of Mr. John Wakefield, which he recognized at once. He 
hastily tore open the envelope, and read as follows: 

“ London, July %\st, 1876. 

My dear Friend, — I have been unable to write to 
you for several weeks, because I have been waiting to hear 
from Captain Raddles. I have written to him twice, but 
up to date have received no reply. I could not obtain any 


138 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


more particulars regarding the railway accident. In the 
first report your wife^s name was not among the list of the 
killed, and in the second it was among those who were 
simply injured. I would advise you to see Captain Ead- 
dles, and ascertain all the particulars of your wife^s 
death. 

The latter portion of his friend^s letter the captain 
merely glanced over. He felt bewildered. He could not 
comprehend why the two newspaper reports did not coin- 
cide. The first intimation that he had received of his 
wife^s death. was through a copy of the “ Times."’’ He 
had not seen the second one that his friend alluded to. 

Could there have been any misapprehension regarding 
the reports, or could his brother-in-law have deceived him? 
Captain Fanshawe asked himself, as he paced up and down 
the room. He felt like quarreling with fate. 

Would he never be able to free himself from the bonds 
which he had forged? Alas! he remembered how im- 
patient he had been to marry Clara Kaddles. He thought 
of the joy that entranced him when he clasped her to his 
heart and called her his wife for the first time. He had 
not wished for her death, but he strongly desired to be free 
from the bondage of a union that had become odious to 
him. 

“ Confound it! I thought to be able to see Eaddles, and 
satisfy myself that I could marry Letty legally. Poor girl! 
she can not understand why 1 hesitate to grant her re- 
quest,” muttered Captain Fanshawe, as he paced the floor 
excitedly. 

Letty entered the drawing-room a few minutes later,, 
looking dazzlingly beautiful in her. evening costume of 
light blue silk trimmed with silver net, a few beautiful 
pearls in her raven hair, and a necklace of the same shim- 
mering gems around her throat. Letty plainly attired 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 139 

was a beautiful girl, but her becoming costume made her 
superb charms appear more conspicuous. 

Eustace Fanshawe sighed as he looked at this charming- 
ly fair girl. He almost wished they had never met, for he 
knew he had. not done his duty toward her. Yes; for one 
brief moment he would have gladly blotted out the past 
five weeks of his life. 

Letty saw the letter in his hand. 

Oh! the evening mail has arrived?^'’ 

“ Yes, dear. 1 am just reading some of my letters.’^ 

“ 1 hope our marriage license has come. 

“ Not yet, Letty, answered Eustace, looking somewhat 
confused. 

Letty gazed at the man whom she believed to be her 
husband with tears in her magnificent dark eye^. 

“ Eustace, if you do not care to acknowledge me as your 
wife, in mercy kill me!^^ 

She spoke tremulously, clasped her hands together, and 
sunk on the ground at her husband’s feet. 

“ My darling! my darling! you are my wife in the sight 
of Heaven,” replied the captain, as he raised the weeping 
girl from her knees and clasped her in .his arms. His face 
was dyed with the crimson blush of shame, for he realized 
only too well how terribly he had wronged Letty. 

“ Will you not wed me again, Eustace, according to our 
own English laws?” 

‘‘ Letty, you must trust me to do what is best for both 
of us. My darling, 1 love you devotedly. ” 

“ Do you love me better than the girl you told me you 
met in Canada years ago? I mean the lady who won your 
heart, and then treated your love with contempt?” 

Yes, Letty. I love you with a deeper, truer love than 
I ever had for Clara. Will you trust me, dear, yet a little 
longer?” 

“You give me no other alternative,” replied Letty, 
sighing. 


140 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


‘‘You know, Letty, how much I care for you. How I 
love you. Do be reasonable, dear. 1 am more disap- 
pointed than you are this evening. 

Letty supposed the captain was speaking of the non- 
arrival of the license — a sad delusion on her part. He 
was thinking of the news in John Wakefield’s letter. 

Letty threw herself in an arm-chair, and commenced 
weeping bitterly. She felt so miserable, so unhappy, that 
it was impossible to restrain her tears. 

“ My dearest girl, you distress me more than I can tell 
you. My only wish is to make you happy. You are my 
wife according to Scotch law, and I am sorry that you do 
not feel satisfied with the ceremony that has already been 
performed. I will marry you again; I have told you that 
I would do so. Do have confidence in me, dear, though I 
must confess I do not deserve it. I acted badly in taking 
advantage of your unprotected position. You see, I was 
too impatient to wait for the usual formalities that our 
English law demands; therefore I urged you to consent 
to a Scotch marriage. Letty dear, forgive me. I acted 
like a soldier, because I believed that any stratagem was 
fair in love and war.” 

“ 1 can not agree with you,” was all that Letty vouch- 
safed to say. 

“ My dear, don’t be too hard on me. I know I am a 
sinner, and implore your forgiveness. Be kind to me to- 
night, for I need your sympathy, dear. I have received a 
letter from the War Office, which has almost made me re- 
gret our happiness, for I very much fear my news will 
grieve you. ” 

Letty looked up at the captain with an expression of sur- 
prise on her tear-stained face, but she asked no questions. 

“I am ordered to India,” said Eustace, slowly, looking 
into Letty’s dark eyes to see how she would take the news. 

“ Ordered — to — India?” cried Letty, in consternation. 


SAINTS AND DINNERS. 141 

Yes; we go to London to-morrow, and sail on Fri- 
day/^ 

‘‘Oh, Eustace, have compassion on me! I can not 
leave England without having an explanation with my fa- 
ther. 

“ Your father must not know of our departure.’^ 

“ Not of our marriage 

“Not at present, Letty. Believe me, I am acting for 
the best. 

“ Merciful Heaven! You can not wish me to have my 
father think that his daughter fled in shame and infamy; 
you surely wish no such thing as that.^ It would kill the 
poor old man. Eustace, you are asking too much of me. 

“ Other interests than mine demand it, dear Letty. 
You will know all in time. Have I not made you my 
wife? Can I do more? Let others think as they may, you 
at least can ever feel secure in the knowledge that our 
hands, like our hearts, are united forever. 

“ Ah, yes; I might feel differently if we had been mar- 
ried by a clergyman. You will not have the marriage 
ceremony performed again, because there is no time to re- 
ceive the license if you are ordered to India at once. 

“ But I promise you I will do so immediately on our 
arrival there. 

“ Well, even if you do satisfy my conscience by doing 
that, nevertheless I shall feel like an ingrate if I leave 
England without bidding my dear old father farewell. 

“ My dear girl, it is impossible. We have no time left 
to go to Downham. 

“It is a cruel silence that bids me see a father mourn 
for a child innocent of that which will bring him with sor- 
row to the grave. Oh, this is too much, Eustace! Ask 
yourself if the trial is not more than a trusting, loving girl 
can bear. I implore you to spare me this dreadful or- 
deal. 

“ I must go alone, then. There is no other way.^^ 


142 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ WIml a relentless fate that forces such a sacrifice! 
Father on one hand, and a dear husband on the other! 
Eustace, Eustace, spare me this cruel choice!^’ 

Write to your father, Letty, and explain matters; 
then mail your letter on the day we sail. I risk a great 
deal by giving you permission to write such a letter. 

“ What do you mean, Eustace?’^ 

“ I can not, dare not explain to you, dear. I have sor- 
rows and cares that even you must not share with ine.^^ 

“ Eustace, if any misfortune has befallen you, who is so 
fit to share your sorrows as your wife? Speak, then, dear 
Eustace, and tell me how I can serve you. Ah! that let- 
ter you received this evening brought you some ill tid- 
ings!’" 

“ Letty, it was not exactly ill news, but something that 
I can not speak to you about. Pray say no more. Since 
you think it necessary to clear your good name, do so; but 
I beg of you not to send your letter until the day the ves- 
sel sails. 1 have grave reasons for making my request.” 

“It is very hard to leave without my father’s blessing — 
without even saying farewell to him,” sighed Letty. 

“ I know it, but remember you are a soldier’s wife now, 
and you must be content to march whenever we receive 
orders to do so. Come, my darling, do not weep any 
more. Compose yourself,” said Eustace, bending over the 
bowed head, and taking her beautiful face between his 
hands, he kissed her fondly. 

“ 1 will try to be content, Eustace, and will not weep 
again. I’ll write daddy a long letter,” said Letty, trying 
to smile. 

“ Do so, dear, and you will be much more cheerful. Go 
and get your shawl and join me in the garden. I am go- 
ing there to have a smoke,” said the captain, as he left the 
room, thinking that “ he had got over the scene he dreaded 
much better than he expected. ” 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


143 


Lefcty remained seated, feeling too miserable to make any 
effort at- rising. 

“ Eustace will never acknowledge me as his wife. Oh!’^ 
she sighed, “it is cruel and unjust to bid me leave Eng- 
land without seeing my dear father — my dear old daddy 
who was so good to me! How have 1 repaid all his loving 
care? I wish I could sleep and wake a little child again.'*’ 

The clock on the mantel-piece struck eight as the 
chimes from a neighboring church rang out its musical 
bells. To the unhappy girl listening they brought sad 
memories. Eight o’clock at home had been one of the 
most enjoyable hours of the twenty-four. When Mr. 
Fletcher had finished all his duties for the day he generally 
wrote or read before supper. His daughter saw, as 
ill a vision, the old study at Bethel Parsonage with its 
quaint, old-fashioned furniture, and her father in his arm- 
chair reading his Bible. 

“ Lydia has just knocked at the study door to call daddy 
to his supper. I can almost fancy that I hear dear oid 
daddy say, ‘Come in, Lydia.’ My humble home was a 
happy one, but I was not contented. I wanted to see the 
world. Ah! I am here to-night, far away from all whom 
T love, except Eustace. I wonder if he really loves me? 
Ts he ashamed of the country-girl that he took from her 
liome? He spoke so strangely about my writing to daddy. 
1 am almost afraid he does not want me to do so. ” 

Letty was completely absorbed in all these conflicting 
thoughts. Eustace, after waiting some time in the garden 
for her, returned to the drawing-room and found her just 
where he had left her, and in the same position. He 
sighed as he saw how sad she was. 

“ Come, dear. I have been waiting for you quite awhile. 
Cheer up, little woman! We’ll be happy yet,” said Eus- 
tace, kissing her as he spoke. 

“ Eustace, I feel very miserable to-night. *1 don’t 


144 SAINTS AND SINNERS. 

know why, unless it is because we are about to leave Eng- 
land/^ 

“ It may only be for a short time, dear. Should you 
not like India, I will try to exchange into another regi- 
ment; perhaps I may leave the army, and we will settle 
down at Fanshawe Manor. 

“Oh! I would be so happy with you there, Eustace, for 
I love the country. You see, I wouldn^t feel so despond- 
ent over leaving England if I could only see my father 
before we sailed. 

“ I wish you could see him, dear. I would like to see 
him myself, but there is no time for any leave-takings. 
Let us hope we will return sooner than we anticipate. Go 
and get some light wrap; the night is fine, and a walk will 
do you good. I must get Leeson to hunt you up a maid 
while we are in London. 

“ I like to wait upon myself, Eustace. 

“ But you need some kind, motherly woman to take 
care of you. I might have to leave you alone frequently, 
for my time is not at my own disposal when on active 
service. I do not wish my little wife to wait on herself. I 
want you to amuse yourself — to study, to learn to ride 
with me.^^ 

“Just as you say, dear Eustace. I will run and get a 
shawl, and then you shall tell me all about India, said 
Letty, as she left the apartment. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

CAPTAIN FANSHAWE's BROTHER-IN-LAW. 

As Letty left the drawing-room to get her shawl, Leeson 
entered the apartment. 

“ Well, Leeson, what is it?’^ asked Captain Fanshawe. 

“ There has been a stranger inquiring for you, sir,^^ an- 
swered the man. 

“ Did he send up his card by you?’’ 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


145 


“ No, sir. He said his name was Brown.’' 

“ What Brown? There are so many Browns in the 
world. It is as common a name as Jones or Smith. What 
does the man want? Is he a beggar?” 

“ No, sir. I think he is a detective. ” 

“ A detective!” cried the captain, looking at Leeson 
with a bewildered expression on his face. ^ 

“ I am almost sure he is one, sir, for he asked one of 
the hotel waiters how long you had been married; what 
sort of an appearance your wife had. He also examined 
the hotel register to see on what day we came here, the 
waiter told me. The man to whom he had put liis ques- 
tions introduced him to me, saying: 

“ ‘ Here is Captain Fanshawe’s man. He can answer 
your questions better than I.’ ” 

“ Upon my word, Leeson, this is very mysterious. Did 
you answer any of Mr. Brown’s questions?” 

“No, sir; but he tried his best to make me do so. He 
is worse than a newspaper reporter. I told him if he 
wanted any information about your affairs he had belter 
see you. He only laughed at me, took a note-book out of 
his pocket, and commenced to write in it.” 

“ How strange! I must see this man, Leeson. Come 
with me, and point him out. He may be a detective sent 
to hunt up Letty. Her father must be very uneasy about 
her. ” 

Letty now came in ready for the walk; but the captain 
said to her: 

“ There is some one whom I wish to see in the garden, 
dear. Please excuse me for a moment. I shall return to 
you shortly. ” 

“ Certainly. I will wait until you are disengaged,” re- 
plied Letty, as she threw her shawl upon the back of a 
chair, and taking up a book, sat down to read. 

Captain Fanshawe went into the garden to find the in- 
quisitive man that Leeson thought was a detective; but 


146 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


Mr. Brown had disappeared. Leeson looked into the read- 
ing-room, and through every part of the house where he 
thought the mysterious ijidividual might have gone, but he 
could not be discovered. 

Eustace Fanshawe, with a vague presentiment of coming 
disaster before him, hastily returned to the liotel and took 
Letty into the garden for the promised stroll. 

Mentally he was ill at ease, but he was more than ordi- 
narily attentive to Letty. The night was warm and balmy. 
The golden light in the west slowly died away, the wind 
ceased to stir the crimson leaves, and the songs of the birds 
were almost hushed. 

“ Letty, would you ever think of me if by some unfore- 
seen chance we were separated asked the captain, wist- 
fully. 

“1 shall always cherish your love,^^ she said, gently. 
“ It will live in my heart always, unless I discover you to 
be unworthy of my affection; even then I could never for- 
get you."' 

“ My darling, let my love bring you happiness, not sor- 
row. 1 see tears in your eyes now, ” said Eustace, hastily, 
as the light from the western sky illumined Letty's pale, 
beautiful face. 

“ 1 still feel sad to-night, Eustace,"’ replied Letty, sigh- 
ing deeply. 

“ I suppose you do, dear; but try not to fret. I trust 
that we will be able to return to England much sooner 
than we anticipate."" 

‘ ‘ I hope so, ’" she sighed. 

“ 1 do, too, for your sake. Letty, I am not a good 
man, but I love you. When we leave England, 1 believe 
we shall be much happier. To-night, dear, I will write to 
your father. He shall know that you are blameless."" 

“ Oh, Eustace, I would be happy if my father knew 
that 1 was your wife. "" 

But you are my wife, dearest, in the sight of Heaven, 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


147 


and you shall be aoknoiYledged so openly if it is in niy 
povver to do so/' 

“ What is there to prevent you doing me that justice?" 

“ Letty, pray do not question me. I shall tell you all 
some day, then you will not think ill of me for my appar- 
ent injustice toward you now. Now you had better go in 
and retire, for you will need a good night's rest in order 
to be able to travel to-morrow. I am going to the read- 
ing-room for a few minutes to look over some newspapers," 
said Eustace, as he escorted Letty to the stone steps lead- 
ing to the balcony that opened into their private suite of 
apartments. 

As Letty entered the room she saw a rather see^dy-look- 
ing individual holding parley with Leeson. 

“ 1 don't think that Captain Fanshawe will refuse to 
see me if you will take him my card," said the visitor, giv- 
ing Leeson a rather soiled bit of pasteboard. 

The valet reluctantly took the card, and went in quest 
of his master. 

‘‘Is it necessary that you should see Captain Fanshawe 
now?" asked Letty, somewhat surprised at the gentle- 
man's shabby appearance, as well as the late hour of his 
call. 

“Yes, ma'am; I do wish to see him very particularly, 
and at once, if possible. Is he at home?" 

“I left him only a moment ago in the garden," replied 
Letty, coldly polite. 

“1 am glad to hear it; for his man did not appear over- 
anxious to announce me. The captain and I are great 
friends." 

“ Indeed!" exclaimed Letty, more surprised than ever, 
for the man apparently did not belong to the same class of 
society as Eustace did. The stranger had a dissipated, 
bloated expression on his face; his clothes were shabby, 
and his general appearance produced an unpleasant im- 
pression upon a person. 


148 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


Yes, ma^am, we are very old friends — very old friends. 
We were at Oxford together. Ah! we were great chums 
ill those days. You would not suspect that such a forlorn- 
looking chap as I could be related to Captain Fanshawe.'’^ 

“ He is some poor relation who has come to ask for as- 
sistance/^ thought Letty; but she made no audible answer 
to the party who stood before her holding his hat in his 
hand. 

“ Yes, ma^am, it is a fact.^^ 

‘‘ Oh, I do not doubt your word,’' said Letty, imagining 
she had better say something, as the man might be hurt at 
her surprise when he announced his relationship to Captain 
Fanshawe. 

“No, you needn't doubt it, because it is a fact, I assure 
you. 1 am Captain Eustace Fanshawe's brother-in-law. 
I am not ashamed of the captain, but he is ashamed of 
me." 

“ You married Captain Fanshawe's sister, I suppose?" 
carelessly remarked Letty. 

“ No. Captain Fanshawe married my sister," replied 
Jack Eaddles, coolly. 

“ She is dead? For Heaven's sake, tell me the truth; 
don't juggle with me!" cried Letty, clasping her hands 
imploringly. 

“ My sister, Clara Fanshawe, is not dead," answered 
Eaddles, looking at Letty with a curious expression on his 
sinister visage. 

Letty threw up her arms with a terrible cry — a cry like 
that of one drowning — one so shrill in its agony that it 
touched the callous heart of Jack Eaddles. 

“ It can not be true!" she gasped rather than spoke. 

“It is true. I swear it before high Heaven!" Jack 
slowly answered. 

Then for some moments there was silence between them 
— an awful silence more terrible than the stillness of 
death. 


SAIITTS AND SINNERS. 149 

Eustace Fanshawe had entered unobserved. He had 
overheard the latter part of the conversation, and with the 
spring of an enraged tiger he sprung upon Jack, caught 
him by the throat, and hissed out between his half-closed 
teeth: 

“ You scoundreir^ 

“ It can not be true, Eustace! It is too cruel — it can 
not be true!’^ Letty cried, as she raised her despairing eyes 
to his. Her face in that short space of time had changed. 
The rich coloring of the cheeks, the happy light of the 
eyes, the proud serene calmness of the honored wife were 
gone never to return. It was a terrible despairing face 
ghastly in its pallor. “Answer me. That man^sayshis 
sister is your wedded wife. Tell me if this is true?^^ 

“ Quite, exclaimed Eustace, unable to deny the awful 
accusation. 

“Villain!” 

Letty stamped her foot, and her eyes for one brief mo- 
ment blazed with indignation, but her passion was soon 
over. She uttered a low moan, staggered, and fell on the 
sofa, where she lay sobbing convulsively. 

“ Don’t dare to show your face here again, or ITl forget 
myself and throttle you. I ought to choke the life out of 
you the same as I would a rattlesnake. You have been at 
your old game. Jack Baddies, extorting money on false 
pretenses. To-night you will bleed me for the last time,” 
said Captain Fanshawe, bitterly. 

“ Clara is very ill. ” 

“ A short time ago you informed she was dead. Pshaw! 
What am I to believe?” 

“We thought she was dead, but she rallied. She made 
me write to your banker for your address, and insisted 
upon coming to Edinburgh though the doctor forbade her 
traveling. She yearns to see you again. ” 

“ Where are you to be found?” asked Eustace, impa- 
tiently. 


150 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ At the Royal Arms.^^ 

“Go. I will call on your sister to-night, though she 
gets no consideration from me whatever. I will see her 
for the last time. 1 leave England to-morrow.’^ 

Jack Raddles smiled. 

“ I saw that your regiment was ordered 

“ That is why you called on me this evening, I suppose. 
Leave me. I will see you at the Royal Arms in an hour’s 
time.’’ 

Jack obeyed, and walked out of the room without an- 
other word, feeling that he had made a faux pas. 

After Captain Fanshawe had seen his unwelcome guest 
depart he went to Letty’s side, and in a voice quivering 
with emotion said to her: 

Now you know why I can not acknowledge you as my 
wife.” 

At these words Letty sprung to her feet, and facing him, 
cried out: 

“ From this moment you and I are strangers!” 

“ Letty, listen to reason. I have wronged you. That 
1 sadly and sincerely acknowledge. I should have frankly 
told you my position before 1 asked you to marry me ac- 
cording to the Scotch law. ” 

“ But why did you act so heartlessly? It was pitiless. 
How could you deceive me?” 

‘ ‘ Because I loved you. I saw that to please your father 
you would marry a man whom you did not love, and you 
would have been wretched all your life. ” 

“Not half so wretched as I am now,” she returned. 
“ It was cruel — cruel of you, Eustace.” 

“ I did not mean to be so. I never meant you should 
know that other woman lived. I have committed a crime 
in marrying you according to Scotch law, and if you want 
to avenge yourself, it will be a very easy thing for you to 
do so. If the truth were known I would be obliged to throw 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 151 

Up my commission in disgrace, for under the laws of this 
laud I am a bigamist. 

“ Do you think that I would avenge myself in such a 
manner asked Letty, shuddering. 

“No, dear, I believe you are too noble to do so. When 
-I read Clara^s name among the list of the killed in a rail- 
way accident on the London and Brighton Road, I was 
thankful that Heaven had sent me my release in time to 
make you my legal wife. That was the reason why I 
promised to wed you again. 

“ You did not knew that your wife had escaped death 
until to-night?’^ 

“ I swear to you I did not until I received John Wake- 
field ^s letter this evening. Believe me, my dear girl, I 
would give all that I possess to legally make you my wife. 
I have not lived with that woman for more than seven 
years. I tried my utmost to obtain a divorce, but discov- 
ered that I could not do so because it was impossible to ac- 
cuse her of any infidelity. Oh, no, she is only a drunk- 
ard; and according to the law I can not free myself from 
the odious bond simply on that account. What do you 
think I have suffered? My disgrace has been on every 
tongue. My wife^s weakness has been the jest of the mess- 
room, , the clubs, and the drawing-rooms of both London 
and Canada, in fact, wherever I was known. Oh, Letty, 
Letty, have mercy upon me and upon yourself! Come 
with me to India and I swear when that woman dies I will 
make you my wife. I offer you this golden opportunity to 
win back your good name.'’^ 

“ We must live apart until she does die, Eustace.” 

“ I can not spare you, my darling. I loved you as 1 
never loved any other woman. I have been in a fooTs 
])aradise for the last month. It is the first real happiness 
I have ever known. What would become of you if we 
separated? I could not endure to live apart from you 
now. ” 


152 SAINTS AND SINNERS. 

“ Eustace, according to my ideas of right, we should 
separate for the present. She is your wife. Marriage is 
too holy a sacrament to he J)roken by the law of man; 
‘ until death doth ye part ^ is meant in the fullest and most 
awful sense of the words.’' 

Eustace’s face turned to a dull gray color, and his eyes 
never left hers as he said : 

“ Letty, do you know what you are saying?” 

“ Yes,” she answered, wearily, with a wistful sort of 
pathos in her voice. 

‘‘ She is no wife of mine,” the captain went on, fiercely. 
‘‘ Years ago she basely deserted me in the hour of my bit- 
terest need, when through her folly I was brought to the 
verge of ruin. Letty, why should we sacrifice the happi- 
ness of our lives for her? She holds no sway over my 
heart. 1 think of her with loathing. You know 1 love 
you alone. She shall not part us. She shall not blight 
your life as she has blighted mine. I could curse Clara 
Raddles when I think it is through her you suffer. ” 

“ Try to forgive her, Eustace. She may be full of sor- 
row for the past. Go to her; she wishes to see you.” 

‘‘My noble girl, I will obey you. Don’t worry; be 
calm, I beg you; but remember, I will never consent to be 
separated from you, and we will live to be very happy,” 
said Eustace Fansbawe, as he held her hands. • 

She looked at him with the tears streaming down her 
pitiful, suffering face. 

“ Oh, Eustace, life has lost all its brightness for me. I 
am but a dishonored woman!” she wailed. 

To Eustace’s dying day Letty ’s look would haunt him, 
it was so full of utter, infinite despair. Those haggard, 
helpless eyes would remain in his memory forever. 

“ Oh, forgive me, Letty, if you can — if you can!” cried 
the unhappy man, as he dropped her hands. He turned 
with knit brows and set lips and rushed from the room, 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


153 


leaving his victim bewailing her unhappy fate with bitter 
but unavailing tears. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

A STORMY INTERVIEW. 

It was almost midnight when Captain Fanshawe left the 
Argyle House, and hailing a cab, he ordered the driver to 
take him to the Royal Arms. 

The captain felt like a man who had been . suddenly 
awakened from a delicious dream and recalled to the sad 
realities of life. He had been so happy during those last 
few weeks, when he imagined himself freed from the^misery 
of his first marriage and able to do justice to Letty. Alas! 
it was as he had said — but a fooFs paradise. He had com- 
mitted a crime, ruined an innocent girPs life, and now he 
was about to meet the woman who had been the bane of 
his existence. 

The cab drew up before the Royal Arms, which was a 
second-class hotel mainly patronized by sporting char- 
acters. Jack Raddles had preferred this house to any 
other in Edinburgh because he was certain of meeting 
there congenial spirits. Captain Raddles was not very 
particular regarding the people with whom he associated 
since he left the army, in fact, his preference was to mingle 
with his inferiors. 

Captain Fanshawe found his brother-in-law waiting on 
the steps of the hotel to receive him. 

“ I had almost given you up,'^ remarked Jack Raddles. 

Pah! you know I never break my word.^’ 

“ Clara is expecting you.^^ 

“ Conduct me to her apartments without delay. I will 
be glad when our interview is over.^^ 

‘‘ Pray be careful how you address her, for she is very 
ill. She received some severe internal injuries.^’ 


154 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ I will control myself and endeavor to remember that 
she is a woman/^ replied Eustace, coldly. 

“ She appears so much better than she really is, I 
thought it my duty to caution you,^^ said Jack, as he led 
Eustace through a dimly lighted corridor, and knocked at 
the door of No. 5. A neat-looking maid at once appeared 
and silently admitted the gentlemen. 

His brother-in-law and the maid retired into an adjoin- 
ing room, leaving Eustace Fanshawe standing alone. He 
looked curiously around the half-obscure chamber, and at 
first did not perceive the white-robed figure propped up 
with pillows reclining on the sofa. 

Clara had made as nice a toilet as her condition would 
admit. She was anxious that her husband should not see 
the imprint of old Father Time upon her features. In 
that dim light her beautiful face did not seem to be 
changed at all. Her fair, brilliant beauty appeared riper 
and more of the earth, earthy. The past seven years had 
not aged her a day. The delicate outlines of her first 
youth had passed away, but she seemed to be handsomer 
than ever in her voluptuous womanhood. 

These confused thoughts passed rapidly through the 
mind of Eustace Fanshawe as he stood looking at his wife 
in a half-dazed sort of way. His head was reeling, and to 
steady himself and recall his wandering senses he grasped 
the back of a chair and set his teeth together savagely as 
he looked at this woman, his legal wife. Thus, after many 
years, they are face to face. 

“ Olara!^^ 

She starts at the name, at the low, even voice in which it 
was spoken. Her face was dyed by a crimson blush, and 
for a moment she could find no voice to answer him. 

“ 1 thought you were dead,"^ said her husband, slowly. 

‘‘ Ah, yes; that railway accident. 1 never expected to 
be so near death and escape. 

He made no comment upon her remark, but still stood 


SAIKTS AKD STKKEHS. 


155 


staring at her, trying to comprehend she was actually alive 
and before him. Her eyes gleamed with an evil fire, and 
she smiled at him insolently. 

“ It spoils your life to know I am. alive, does it not?^^ 
was her malicious question. 

‘‘ Cdara, I am no hypocrite. 1 must confess that when I 
read the account of the disaster, and saw your name among 
the list of the dead passengers, I was at first greatly 
shocked, but afterward a feeling of positive relief took en- 
tire possession of me. I was rejoiced that I had been 
divorced by Heaven. 

“Ah! you are really candid, mon ami. No doubt you 
were pleased, for you wished to wed that young girl who, 1 
understand, you have dared to pass off as your wife.^^ 

“ You are right, madame. I wished to do an act of jus- 
tice to an innocent girl. Poor child! she did not know of 
your existence until two or three hours ago.^^ 

Mrs. Fanshawe laughed contemptuously. 

“ Do you remember the day on which we parted?’’ 

“ I have endeavored to forget your heartless conduct,” 
answered Eustace, coldly. 

“ Was I heartless? I do not recollect; but I do remem- 
ber how you pleaded for my love, and how you swore eter- 
nal constancy.” 

“ Ah!” ejaculated Eustace, shrugging his shoulders. 

“ Verily a few years change a man’s ideas as well as his 
affections. Jack says the young woman is very beautiful. 
Ts she the only successor I have had in all these years? 
Fickleness is one of the attributes of your sex, and I am 
not at all surprised at the transfer of'your valuable heart.” 

Eustace’s face crimsoned at his wife’s sarcastic speech, 
but he had sufficient self-control to answer her calmly: 

“ You do me a great injustice, Clara. I did love you 
then, and would have continued to do so, but you scorned 
my love, laughed at my devotion, and dragged my name 
down into the mire. You forgot your womanhood, and 


156 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


indulged too frequently in the wine-cup. Oh, woman! 
you can never know what I have suifered through you.'’^ 

“Well, our marriage was a great mistake for both of 
us. You did not understand me. You were too indulgent 
— I too self-willed. You have altered far more than 1 
have/’ said she, addressing him more gently. 

A real pang went through her as the dark retrospect of 
the past arose before her. She felt that she could have 
avoided all the misery she had endured if she had only en- 
. deavored to do so. 

Eustace Fanshawe stood looking at the woman who had 
been his wife, nay, who was his wife still, realizing his mis- 
ery as he had never yet realized it in all the years of their 
separation. 

“ Yes, I am altered,” he said, after a pause that was 
fast becoming embarrassing. “ I am not so easily duped; 
I am more suspicious; I am not the moral man that I was. 
I lost my faith in woman when you deserted me, and most 
proably I would still have the same bad opinion of your 
sex if I had not met a woman who was all that a sweet 
woman should be — one like my own dear dead mother. 
But what is the use of talking to you about such a being? 
you could never appreciate or understand her.” 

Clara gave him a swift, scornful glance as she said: 

“ It is a wonder that you left her charming presence to 
call on me. ” 

“ It was for her sakd that I came here to-night, to stand 
face to face with you, to make assurance doubly sure that 
you existed. ” 

“ Did you believe my brother had deceived you?” 

“Yes, for he had telegraphed to me that you were dead. 
I even sent him money to defray your funeral expenses.” 

“ Very thoughtful of you to do so, especially as you are 
well acquainted with Jack’s usual impecuniosity. ” 

“We will not speak of his faults. I am aware that he 
was obliged to leave the army for some misdemeanor, and 


SAIKTS AND SINNEKS. 


157 


that he has extorted money from me under every possible 
pretext. 

Clara’s face grew alternately red and white. She was 
humiliated as she now learned for the first time the con- 
temptible part her brother had played in her domestic 
drama. 

All the fierce anger she had felt toward Eustace Fan- 
shawe was extinguished. For years she had bitterly re- 
gretted the past, but had been too ashamed to seek the 
man she had wronged, and too proud to ask his forgive- 
ness. To-night, when she had first seen him for many 
years, her elation was great that she had been spared to 
prevent his marriage with the beautiful girl who h%d taken 
her place. She, like Letty, had only learned of her rival’s 
existence that evening when her brother had returned to 
the Royal Arms after his interview with Letty and Eustace 
at their hotel. Jack had given his sister a graphic descrip- 
tion of his call on Captain Fanshawe. 

A strange sensation took possession of Clara when she 
heard of the young lady her brother had met in the Argyle 
House. She actually felt jealous of this woman usurping 
her place, and was indignant that her husband should dare 
to call another woman his wife. Her perceptions were not 
just enough to see that her own conduct had in a measure 
placed her husband in a false position and rendered him 
amenable to temptation. 

When Jack told her that the captain had complied with 
her request and would see her that night, Clara was deter- 
mined to show no sorrow for the past; but during her in- 
terview with her husband her better feelings prevailed and 
she was for a moment contrite. She knew this was their 
last meeting, being aware that her husband was about to 
go on active duty in far-ofi India and her own days on 
earth were numbered. Thinking thus, she asked him: 

“ As this is the last time we shall see each other, allow 
me to explain what may be a mystery to you. You just 


158 


SAINTS ANT) SINNERS. 


now accused me of being a drunkard — you make a mis- 
take. 

“ I hope so; though Madame Eumor has been busy with 
your name for a long time in that connection. If you had 
not disgraced my name in that manner I could almost have 
forgiven you the rest. 

‘‘ I have been accused of loving intoxicating beverages 
simply because I apparently relished my wine at dinner a 
little more than other ladies, but I never was a drunkard. 
I was a confirmed morphinist when you married me. I 
had contracted the fatal habit during a severe illness I had 
the year previous to my visit to Toronto.'^ 

“Great Heaven!’"’ cried Eustace; “then this explains 
matters to me. 1 used to think you acted strangely at 
times. This will account for your great delight in the ex- 
citement of the race-course — you betted, gambled insanely, 
and always repulsed me when 1 implored you to be less ex- 
travagant.” 

“It is all true. The very last interview we had to- 
gether I was under the influence of morphine.” 

“ Clara, Clara, why did you not tell me this frankly 
when we were first married?” 

“ Because I was ashamed to acknowledge my fault. I 
tried to break myself of the dreadful habit, and for six 
months I succeeded in abstaining, but the old craving for 
the soothing drug returned. I did not yield to it until we 
came to London; then I succumbed — I couldn’t live with- 
out it.” 

“ If you had only trusted me, Clara, how much misery 
you would have saved both of us,” said her husband, sadly. 

Jack Raddles entered the room, and seeing his sister’s 
flushed face and great, bright eyes, gently remarked: 

“ Clara, you must not get so excited. You know the 
doctor told you to be very calm if you wisl^ to recover; it 
is your only chance. ” 

“ Jack, there is no use of your trying to deceive me, nor 


SAINTS AND SINNEES. 


159 


the doctor either. I know it is impossible for me to get well 
again. 

“ Don't say that, Clara;" and her brother turned his 
head aside to hide his emotion. His sister was the only 
human being he had ever loved, and he dreaded her death. 

“ Leave us alone. Jack. I promise you I will control 
myself," his sister said, kindly. 

Jack Raddles obeyed her by silently, walking out of the 
chamber. Her word was law to him. When they were 
alone Clara turned to her husband, saying: 

“ 1 can not walk across the floor alone. I was jammed 
between two first-class carriages and there I remained un- 
able to move until they came and dragged me out. I was 
insensible for hours; that is why I was reported dead. 
Eustace, you will not have to wait long for your release. 
I will live but a few months, then you can marry this girl 
you now love so dearly. She may repay you for all your 
past suffering. Tell her to make you happy. I shall be 
glad to die and let her take my place. " 

“ Poor Letty! she would pity you if she knew the 
truth!" sighed Eustace. 

“1 am unworthy of her pity. I thought to die and 
make no sign, but 1 could not. Oh, I was wrong — always 
wrong!" 

She coughed and lay back exhausted for some moments 
before she resumed: 

“ You were my husband, Eustace — you are still legally 
so. Oh, that the past could be blotted out — that I could 
wake and find it but a hideous dream!" 

‘‘ I echo your wish, Clara, with all my heart," was her 
husband's reply; but his mind was on the innocent girl he 
loved so fondly. 

‘‘ Not for my sake, Eustace, but for the sake of the 
woman you now love." 

“ Yes, for her sake. She is our victim, Clara." 

“ Take her with you to India; respect her as you would 


160 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


your sister, and on the day you hear of my death wed her. 
Tell her that 1 ask her to take my place. I am almost on 
the very threshold of the next world. Will you not bless 
me? Will you not say one word of love to me before our 
long farewell? — only one word — my heart is breaking for 
itV’ 

He came and bent over her, and pushed aside the hair 
from her brow with a gentle hand. 

“ Clara, you nearly broke my heart when you left me. 
I am not good myself, Clara, "^but let me advise you to pre- 
pare for the long journey you are about to take. May 
God bless you and forgive you as I do.^’ Eustace faltered 
and kissed her white brow. 

‘‘ Are you leaving me? Stay! stay!^^ she asked, wildly. 

‘‘ You are growing faint, and I will call for assistance. 

‘‘Farewell, then,^^ she said, the tears raining from her 
eyes. 

“ Farewell,^^ said her husband, as he hastily left the 
apartment. In the hall he met Jack Eaddles, and sent 
him to call Clara’s maid. The captain then entered his 
cab, and was driven back to the Argyle House. 


CHAPTER XX. 
leeson’s teeachery. 

Captain Fanshawe returned to his hotel and went at 
once to his apartments, where he found Letty half on halt 
off the sofa. She had, like a tired child, wept herself to 
sleep; her tear-stained cheeks looked flushed, and she 
moaned in her uneasy slumber. Eustace knelt beside her 
and felt her hot hands anxiously. 

“ I hope my darling is not going to be ill,” he said, un- 
der his breath. 

Letty seemed to have become conscious of his presence, 
even in her sleep, for she at once opened her eyes, raised 


SAINTS AND SINNERS^. 161 

her head, casting a reproachful glance on him, and com- 
menced to sob. 

The captain pillowed her head on his bosom and tried 
to soothe her. 

“ My dear child, you will be ill. I implore you to calm 
yourself. You will kill me, Letty. 1 can not endure see- 
ing you suffer so. Come, let me help you to your cham- 
ber; you must try to sleep. You are very feverish now. I 
will not go to London until to-morrow evening, for you 
are not fit to travel. Come, dear, try and obtain a com- 
fortable night's rest. '' 

Rest? I will never know what that means again in this 
world!'' replied the poor girl, mournfully, as she laid her 
head back on the sofa pillow. 

My dear, everything will come right in the end. 
Have a little patience." 

“ Let me go home. Eustace, until you can openly claim 
me as your wife," said Letty, rising and sitting up 
straight. 

Eustace Faiishawe walked away from the sofa where she 
sat and did not answer her. 

“ Oh, Eustace!" she cried, “ let me go home." 

‘‘ Go, if you will. I have not the power to detain you 
if you are determined to return to Hownham. Have you 
the courage to face your father's congregation? Have you 
the fortitude to bear their Christian pity and forgiveness? 
Can you not imagine how your return will set their Chris- 
tian tongues wagging about their minister's daughter? 
Can you bear their Christian scorn and indignation?" 

“ Yes," answered Letty, bitterly. “ I know that per- 
haps even now the good people of Hownham suspect me. 
Oh, what have I done that you should rob me of my good 
name?" 

‘‘You are beautiful, you are fascinating. 1 met you 
and loved you. I never meant to wrong you, dear, but I 


1G2 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


have done so. I am more sorry for it than you can realize. 
1 shall regret it until the day of my death. 

“ I want to return to my father, Eustace. It is the 
only honorable course for me to pursue since I know I am 
not your legal wife.^^ 

“ Forgive me,’’ he said, bitterly; “ it is easy, no doubt, 
for you to give me up, but it is not so very easy for me to 
give you up. I have grown to love you with all the 
strength of my manhood.” 

“ Easy for me?” she repeated, her lips quivering. 
“ Ah! I have not deserved that. I do not know if hearts 
break; I suppose not; but mine feels as if it were break- 
ing to-night. Oh, Eustace, I love you so dearly, so 
greatly, I will be true to you all my life. Even though we 
should part now, no man’s lijis shall touch mine until 
death breaks the bond between us.” 

Her words touched him strangely. His anger died out,* 
and he came and stood before her almost humbly. 

“ Letty, my darling, do not desert me. Come to India 
with me. Clara told me to ask you to take her jdace, she 
can not live but a few months longer at best. I swear be- 
fore Heaven that I will respect you and treat you as my 
sister until I can make you my lawful wife. I will be 
miserable if I have to go out there alone. I know that 
you are all that is brave, noble, true, and womanly — I 
wouldn’t know an hour’s peace if I left you in England to 
bear unmerited shame — shame which you never deserved, 
for before the Supreme Judge I am guilty, not you! 
Come, come to India with me, my dear. I can not bear 
to leave you here to suffer, to know that I have blighted 
your life.” 

“ Let me retire now, Eustace, I am so exhausted; to- 
morrow I will give you my answer,” answered Letty. 

“ Well, good-night, dear; I will wait until to-morrow, 
as you wish, for your answer,” said Eustace, kissing her 
good-night. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


163 


Letty went slowly out of the room, and the captain, 
with a weary sigh, sunk down on the sofa. He wished now 
that he had not acted like a madman and taken Letty 
away from her home. His conscience terribly reproached 
him for this infamous deed. He laid his head on the pil- 
low, still damp with Le tty’s tears, in the deepest depths of 
misery, remorse, and despair, but being completely over- 
come by the events of the day, in five minutes he was in a 
heavy slumber. 

Leesoii had waited in his master’s dressing-room until 
two o’clock that morning; in fact, until he was so sleei^y 
he couldn’t keep his eyes open. 

“ It is very odd that the captain has not called mo- yet,” 
said the valet to himself, as he arose and went into the 
drawing-room, where he discovered Captain Farishawe 
asleep on the sofa. I dare not disturb him,” muttered 
Leeson, as he turned down the gas, closed the windows, 
and threw a traveling-rug over his master. “ I guess he 
will do until morning,” said Leeson, as he went to his own 
apartment. 

The captain slept through until seven o’clock the next 
morning. He was very much surprised when he awoke 
to find he had been sleeping on the drawing-room sofa. 
He rang the bell for Leeson, who entered looking as if he 
liad just scrambled out of bed into his clothes. 

“ Why, Leeson, what ails you?” asked the captain, 
looking surprised at his man. 

“ I had very little sleep last night, sir. I sat up until 
two o’clock waiting for your orders, and not hearing your 
bell came in here and found you fast asleep. I covered 
you up and retired. I was afraid to disturb you.” 

“ You did right, Leeson. I am too old a soldier to 
grumble about the sort of bed 1 sleep on.” 

Captain Fanshawe went to his dressing-room, and with 
his valet’s assistance made a fresh toilet. 

Letty awoke, feeling refreshed from a good night’s rest. 


164 


SAINTS ANt) Sl2;A’I.li.^. 


and entered the dining-room before Captain Fanshawe 
made his appearance there. 

“ How shall I decide? Oh, if I only had some kind 
friend to advise me in this painful struggle between love 
and duty! Alone must I bear the burden of my sorrow. 
1 shall be forced to keep my secret within my own heart 
and suSer in silence for one farewell look at my humble, 
happy home!^'’ 

Captain Fanshawe^s voice now interrupted her reflec- 
tions. 

“ Well, Letty dear, good-morning to you. 1 hope you 
feel much better than you did last evening?^^ 

“ Yes, dear, thank you; I am very well this morn- 
ing."" 

‘‘ And have you decided to go with me to India?"" asked 
Eustace^ anxiously. 

“ Yes, Eustace, 1 will go with you. I will be a loving, 
devoted sister to you until we can be married,"" answered 
Letty, with tears in her eyes, the words forcing themselves 
slowly out of her lips as if it pained her to utter them. 

“ My own Letty!"" was Eustace"s glad cry, as he em- 
braced her, I will be patient until Heaven sends me my 
release. I shall become a better man in your society, dear. 
Come, let us breakfast. " " 

After they had finished the morning"s meal the captain 
was obliged to attend to some private business, and left 
Letty alone, promising to return in an hour or so. 

The minister"s daughter went into the drawing-room and 
commenced writing a long letter to her father in which she 
tried to explain matters. Poor child! she did not know 
that at that moment her father was on his way to seek her. 
Mr. Fletcher had endured his suspense with true Christian 
fortitude. He had prayed fervently for strength and cour- 
age to bear his cross. He loved his daughter devotedly; 
she was his only child, and he had cherished her as the 
apple of his eye. He believed she had eloped with the 


SA'EN'TS AND SINNERS. 


165 


handsome officer in order to escape marrying Ralph Kings- 
mill, and lie blamed himself for urging h5r to accept her 
old playmate. 

Mr. Fletcher would have made the train go at greater 
speed if it had been in his power to do so. The mighty 
engine scattered red sparks on every side of the road as it 
rushed on and on, flying past smiling villages, over hill 
and dale, as the train sped on toward Scotland at the rate 
of sixty miles an hour. 

When Mr. Fletcher arrived in Edinburgh it was too late 
to seek his daughter, and he put up at an humble inn 
where he hired a room for the night. He threw himself 
on the bed witliout undressing, and tried to wait patiently 
for the coming morrow. He was too excited to sleep. 

The next morning he took an early breakfast, and about 
nine o’clock made his way to the Argyle House. One of 
the hotel waiters informed Leeson that an old gentleman 
was inquiring for his master. 

Leeson was surprised to see Mr. Fletcher, and the valet 
did not know what to do or say, as Captain Fanshawe had 
not yet returned. 

“ Did you wish to see my master, sir?” Leeson asked, 
politely. 

“If you please, tell him that Mr. Fletcher desires to see 
him. He will not need my card to recall me to his mem- 
ory,” said the minister. 

“ Captain Fanshawe is not in, sir.” 

“ Is my daughter here?” asked the minister, looking 
sternly at Leeson. 

“ Sir!” exclaimed Leeson. 

“ Do not prevaricate, young man, you know who I 
mean. Go and tell her that I am here.” 

Leeson silently obeyed the minister, and went to the cap- 
tain’s drawing-room. 

“ Well, Leeson, what is it?” demanded Letty, looking 
up from the letter she was writing. 


166 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ Your father is here, ma^am,^’ replied Leeson. 

Letty sprung to her feet; she turned pale. 

“ Merciful heavens!’^ she ejaculated. “ I can not meet 
him. Oh, tell him I am not here. Stay; I don^t know 
what I am saying. Does my father look ill, Leeson? Is 
he changed?’^ 

Before Leeson could answer her questions, the minister 
was in the room. Letty caught a glimpse of her father, 
and flung her hands over her cheeks, which were burning 
with shame. 

“ Letty!” exclaimed her father, holding out his arms 
to her. 

‘ ‘ Father, do not touch me, do not come near me ! I am 
not worthy of your pity, but still I am not the degraded 
being you imagine me to be.” 

“ Thank Heaven that you are Captain Fanshawe’s 
wife!” cried the clergyman. Ah, my child! you can not 
conceive what I have suffered since you left us. Were you 
married again by the minister, as you wrote you expected 
to be?” 

Letty turned to Leeson, who still lingered in the apart- 
ment, for on this occasion his curiosity overcame his good 
manners. 

“No, father,” she answered, sadly. “ Leeson, tell my 
father that you witnessed my marriage at Gretna Green.” 

But Leeson did not open his lips; he felt that he must 
shield his master, to whom he was deeply attached, at any 
cost. He made up his mind that Mr. Fletcher should get 
no satisfaction from him concerning Captain Fanshawe’s 
Scotch marriage. 

“ Why don’t you answer, Leeson? You witnessed my 
marriage at Gretna Green, did you not?” 

“ I have no recollection of witnessing your marriage, 
ma’am,” answered Leeson, quietly. 

“Leeson!” cried Letty, as she looked at him with a 
startled, bewildered air, “ how can you utter such a false- 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


167 


hood? I implore you to tell the truth. Do not deny 
it, do not make my heart drop tears of blood. Do not bo 
so cruel, so pitiless, as to be guilty of such treachery to 
me!^^ 

“ I did not witness any marriage ceremony between you 
and Captain Fanshawe, ma^am,’^ was the valet^s firm an- 
swer. 

He supposed he was acting for the welfare of his master, 
but he did not consider the villainous part he was taking 
against the pure, innocent girl. 

“ Man, you will drive me mad!^^ gasped Letty, looking 
at him with the deepest reproach in her large dark eyes. 

Leeson was silent. He had told his falsehood^- and was 
determined to adhere to it. Jacob Fletcher looked scorn- 
fully at him as he said: 

“ May Heaven wither your lying tongue and deny to 
you the mercy that you have denied to my unfortunate 
daughter 

Leeson mechanically bowed and walked silently from the 
room with the awful words of the minister ringing in his 
ears. He felt like Judas after he had betrayed his Master. 

Letty stood nailed to the floor, the tears running down 
her cheeks, and her hands clasped nervously together. 

Come home, my child, come home!^^ cried the minis- 
ter, opening out his arms. His daughter shuddered, but 
stood still. 

“ Come home, my darling; I forgive you, dear.^^ The 
tears were in Mr. Fletcher’s kind, blue eyes. 

“Oh, reproach me! I can not bear your kindness. I 
do not deserve one loving word from your lips; I am an 
ingrate,” said the unhappy girl, wringing her hands. 

“ Letty, you are my child, and as I expect my Heaven- 
ly Father to forgive me my sins, I must forgive you. Come 
to my arms, my poor, deceived child!” the minister re- 
plied, going toward her. 

Let (y looked at her father for a moment, and with a 


168 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


long, low wail of misery she threw herself on his breast. 
The minister kissed her again and again, as he said: 

“ My darling child, trust me — your father!^^ 

CHAPTER XXL 

A CHRISTIAN FATHER. 

When Letty was calmer she told her father all -the 
particulars of her journey to London and of her Scotch 
marriage. 

“ You wrote me that Captain Fanshawe promised to 
marry you again, and the ceremony was to be performed 
by a minister,’^ said Mr. Fletcher. 

‘‘ Yes, Eustace has promised to wed me again, but there 
exists an obstacle to our marriage at present. 

“My child, your words alarm me. Captain Fanshawe 
ought to have made you his legal wife as soon as possible 
after your arrival in London. If he meant to act honestly 
by you he never would have thought of a Scotch marriage. 
What was his motive for acting toward you as he has 
done?’^ 

“ Do not ask me, father. Eustace loves me, but he is 
placed in an unfortunate position. 

“ Letty, if he really loved you, he wouldnT have placed 
you in a false position. Why does he not make you his 
legal wife? My darling, give me your confidence.-’^ The 
minister spoke calmly, he was trying to hide the indigna- 
tion he felt regarding the captain’s conduct to Letty. 

She raised her. dark eyes and looked at her father im- 
ploringly. Mr. Fletcher was shocked at the pain and de- 
spair he saw in them. 

“ Father, do you really love me?” asked Letty. 

“ Who do I care for in this world except yourself?” 

“ Then, if you love me, cease to ask me any more ques- 
tions. The secret is not all mine. You have no share in 
it; so 1 can not tell it to you — I will not reveal it,” 


SAIJN-TS AND SINNERS. 


169 


“ Le tty/ ^ said the minister, earnestly, ‘‘1 am certain 
of one thing — you have no right to keep this secret, of 
whatever nature it may be, from me. You are a young, 
inexperienced girl, therefore you can not judge matters 
correctly. I am quite sure that the hand of Providence 
has led me so far, and will lead me still further, even if 
you refuse to tell me why Captain Fanshawe can not ac- 
knowledge you as his wife. I consider it my d uty to find 
out what you have chosen to conceal."^ 

“ How cruel you are!’^ sobbed Letty. 

“ Cruel, Letty? 1 do not wish to wound you; it is you 
who are cruel. Put yourself in my place. Suppose that 
you had a daughter who suddenly deserted yoiv mysteri- 
ously married a man who would not acknowledge her as 
his lawful wife, and when you questioned her why such 
was the case, she refused to answer you. What would you 
think?’^ 

Letty made no reply to her father^s question. 

“ I know,’"’ he continued, “ what the world will say if it 
gets hold of yopr story. 

“ What will it say?"^ asked Letty, faintly. 

“ You ought to know that unless Captain Fanshawe al- 
lows you to be recognized as his wife you will be looked 
upon as a dishonored woman. Your silence to me is terri- 
ble; it shows me that this secret is a disgraceful one. My 
dear child, there is a struggle in your heart, a struggle 
between right and wrong. Be brave— let the right pre- 
vail — own the truth, no matter what follows. Only cow- 
ards need secrecy. In the name of Providence, as you 
value your reputation, I entreat you to trust me. Trust 
your father, Lett 3 ^■’^ 

“What shall I do?^^ cried Letty, wringing her hands. 

“ Tell me the truth. Eemember, my dear girl, unless 
the captain does acknowledge you as his legal wife I shall 
insist upon your returning to Dovvnham.^’ 

“ Oh, what a terrible alternative!^' 


170 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ Is the captain^s reason an honest one? Does it satisfy 
your conscience, Letty?^’ 

She was silent. She could not answer her father. If 
she told him the truth he 'would be shocked, therefore 
Letty was dumb. 

“ My child, even suppose that Captain Fanshawe’s rea- 
son is valid, are you willing to remain in this false posi- 
tion 

“ I do not understand you,” Letty answered. 

“ I will make myself distinctly understood,” replied Mr. 
Fletcher. “ I mean, are you so utterly lost to all your re- 
ligious teachings, to the tender sense of honor I supposed 
you to possess, to be willing to live with a man who can 
not avow himself to be your husband? I do not know 
what argument this man may have used to blind your 
judgment, but sophistry, my dear child, is not common 
sense. There is only one simple course for us all to pursue 
in this world, that is to endeavor to do what our conscience 
teaches us to be right.” 

Still the unhappy and perplexed girl made no answer. 
She felt it was impossible to tell her father the truth. She 
tried to think that what he had said was right. It was 
neither fate nor chance that had guided him to her side, 
but the finger of Heaven. She had been led into an error 
by the man she loved, and she felt she did not possess the 
courage to leave him. She must keep her word and go to 
India with him. Never for a moment did she doubt the 
captain’s compact with her, but firmly believed that he 
would treat her as his sister until the time came when he 
could make her his legal wife. 

Letty did not judge the captain by his past conduct. 
She was young, romantic, confiding, and had not yet 
learned to doubt the words of those she loved, or weigh the 
motives of their actions. 

‘‘ I insist, Letty, upon knowing the truth,” said Mr. 
Fletcher, after an embarrassing pause. “ I repeat, if Cap- 


SAINTS AND . SINNERS. I7l 

tain Faiishawe can not acknowledge yon as his wife, you 
must return home with me.^^ 

Letty arose from the couch and stood before her father 
in all the magnificence of her beauty, her face pale, her 
eyes filled with the fire of pride. 

“Father, 1 can not return to Downham. I would 
rather remain in Edinburgh and earn my bread. 

“ My daughter, your words pain me. Have you ceased 
to love me?'^ 

“No, daddy, no; but — I can not face the people. I 
dare not return. Let me obtain some sort of employment 
here. ^ ’ 

“ My dear child, you are talking like the ine^cperienced 
girl that you are. You are young and beautiful, therefore 
in a large city like this you would be exposed to all sorts of 
insults. 1 need you, Letty. I can not be happy with you 
away from me.^' 

“ But T have pledged myself to go to India with Eus- 
tace. 

“I too have pledged my word,^^ said Jacob Fletcher, 
his voice trembling with great emotion. “ Oh, my daugh- 
ter, hear me! Don^t break my heart completely. 1 prom- 
ised your dying mother to be answerable for your soul. 

Letty turned away her head. She tried to keep back the 
tears which ran down her cheeks. Poor girl ! there was a 
great struggle going on in her soul. 

The aged minister, seeing her so quiet and sorrowful, felt 
as if he were dying. He suffered intensely; his daughter 
was the only human being on earth whom he loved. He 
never cherished her more fondly than at this moment. He 
saw her hesitation, and knew she was struggling to do what 
was right in spite of her love for Eustace Fanshawe. 

“ My daughter, do not let me prove false to the vow I 
made to your dying mother. 

“ I can not, can not leave Eustace. If I deserted him 
he would become a bad man!” Letty sobbed out. 


172 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


“My child, do you think that by remaining with him 
you can redeem him? There is no poison like the love of 
a profligate; the venom of an adder is not more virulent; 
it spreads through the whole being. Oh, my child, I have 
known young girls think their love was all-powerful to re- 
form the man they loved so madly. I have seen them 
make the effort. I have seen them plant their souls be- 
neath the upas-tree and expect not only to escape, but 
conquer the poison. 1 have seen their mad efforts to re- 
form a man already given to sin. Letty, remember Maud 
liobinson'’s fate. She married Luke Hastings, knowing he 
was fond of the wine-cup. His owji mother warned and 
implored her not to wed him. They married. What was 
the result of that union? Luke drank deeper a year after 
his marriage than before it, lost his situation, and became 
an habitual drunkard. Poor Maud died of consumption. 
I pleaded with that poor girl, warned her, but she an- 
swered me almost as you have done. ‘ I dare not refuse to 
marry Luke. I love him. He has promised to ref orm. ^ 
Oh, my darling! take warning in time. Return home and 
take up your cross with resignation and try to lead a pure, 
noble life. If ■ your heart breaks, it is better to do what 
your conscience tells you is right. 

The minister ceased speaking, and looked at the erring 
girl to see if his words had made any impression on her; 
but she appeared to be still stubborn; then the old clergy- 
man, thinking he had pleaded in vain, flung himself at her 
feet, and raising his trembling arms, said: 

“ On my knees I implore you to hear me. My dear 
child, what will any maiPs love avail you if you lose your 
soul. I beg you to come with me. Do not let me die know- 
ing that you are lost to virtue. In the name of your dear 
dead mother, I beseech you to hear me!^^ 

“Rise, father, Letty cried out at last. “ I will obey 
you though it breaks my he.art.-’^ 

“ My own dear daughter!'" exclaimed the minister, as 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 173 

he arose and clasped Letty in his arms. “Oh, Lord! I 
thank Thee for Thy mercy!^^ he murmured, piously. 

“ 1 must go before Eustace returns, or he would seek to 
detain me. W ait a moment, daddy; I was writing to you 
before you came in. I must now write to Eustace and bid 
him farewell. 

“ Do so, my child, then get ready at once to return with 
me to Downham. We can get there to-night, which will 
be better for you than arriving in the day-time. We will 
meet no one at the late hour the train reaches there. 

“1 dread to return to Downham,^'’ answered Letty, 
shuddering. 

“ You neednT do so, Letty, because most of my^congre- 
gation believe that you are in London making a visit to 
some old friends of your mother^s. Lot Burden heard 
this report and did not contradict it.^^ 

“ But how can 1 meet Kalph Kingsmill and all my old 
friends? How can I go back to the old life?^^ Letty 
wrung her hands in her agony till they were almost sore. 

“ My child, have courage and do what is right. If you 
have sinned unconsciously, do not sin now knowingly. If 
you can not be the wife of Captain Eanshawe in the sight 
of God and man, leave him. In the name of Providence! 
return to your humble home, and in doing your duty try 
to forget your sad experience, answered Mr. Fletcher, 
kindly. 

“ I will, daddy. I will try to obey you;^' and Letty 
resolutely dashed the tears from her eyes as she sat down 
to the writing-table and wrote the following: 

“ Dear Eustace, — My father has come to take me 
home. I am going to return with him, for I feel it is my 
duty to do so. I have not told him the truth — I could 
not. I am almost distracted at the thought of leaving you 
without bidding you farewell. Dear Eustace, should you 
ever be free, return to England and wed me again. Do 


174 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


me this act of justice for my poor father^s sake. God 
bless you. 

“ With love, always yours faithfully, 

“ Lktty.' 

“ N.B. — I will keep my ring in remembrance of our 
Scotch marriage, but I shall leave all your other gifts. 

Lefcty sealed the note and left it on the table. She arose 
from her chair, walked to the window, and took a farewell 
look at the garden where the flowers looked so blooming as 
the bright sun shone upon them. 

A great pang shot through her as she remembered the 
happy hours she had spent in that little garden, and, like 
another Eve, regretted her jiaradise when the gates were 
shut against her. Was it regret for the past or mournful 
presentiment of the future that overwhelmed her? 


CHAPTER XXIL 

PARTED. 

Letty sighed as she took her last view of the Argyle 
House garden, and turned away from the window with a 
mute farewell to all her surroundings. 

“ I will change my dress and get ready for the journey. 
I will not detain you long, daddy. 

Make as much haste as possible, as I want to catch the 
next train, replied the minister, as Letty passed into an 
adjoining room. 

Mr. Fletcher sat down on the sofa to wait for his daugh- 
ter. There was a glow at his heart, for he had succeeded 
in convincing Letty that her position was a false one, that 
she could never expect to be happy if she remained with 
Captain Fanshawe unless he legally married her. A vision 
of the pure sweet face of his wife crowned with its halo of 
pale gold hair rose up before him. He felt that by the aid 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 175 

of Providence he had rescued his daughter from a life of 
sin, and he had kept the promise made to her mother. 

The minister was so absorbed in this reverie that he had 
not heard Captain Fanshawe’s footsteps as he entered the 
drawing-room, and did not notice him until he was about 
to pass into the room where Letty was at that moment 
packing a small traveling-bag and weeping bitterly. 

Jacob Fletcher started to his feet at once when he beheld 
the man who had blighted his daughter’s life. 

The captain, hearing him, turned sharply, and the two 
men faced each other. The officer’s face flushed, and he 
stood still a moment, too surprised and pained to utter a 
word. 

‘ ‘ I am here to bring my daughter home. I am a min- 
ister of the Gospel; if it were not for that I am afraid 1 
should be unable to restrain myself in your presence. 
You have ruined my daughter’s life, and done the greatest 
wrong a man can do to an innocent girl. I ought to curse 
you, but I leave you to the vengeance of Heaven.” 

The minister spoke in a voice that quivered from his in- 
tense feeling. 

Eustace Fanshawe listened to Mr. Fletcher and was 
silent, but the lurid light of anger was in his eyes. He 
was determined *to prevent Letty returning to Hownharn; 
but he was aware that he was in an awkward position as 
he was in the hotel, for the minister might at any moment 
summon assistance; however, he was resolved to make an 
effort to prevent Letty’s departure. I5ut how? As he was 
considering what course to pursue he saw the key on the 
outside of the door of Letty’s room. It flashed through 
his mind that he must use force or lose the beautiful girl. 
He sprung to the door, locked it, and put the key in his 
pocket; then he turned and faced the minister again. 
Physically Captain Fanshawe was no coward, and he was 
prepared to do battle for the woman he loved. 

“ Open that door!” cried Mr. Fletcher. 


17C 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


“ I shall not do so!” burst out Eustace Fanshawe, ex- 
citedly. “ Do you think I will heed anything you say at 
such a time as this?” 

“ Open that door!” commanded the minister. 

“ Your daughter is of age. She has promised to go to 
India with me. You may think you are acting for the 
best, but if you knew all the circumstances you might 
leave her to depart with me. You would take her back to 
Downham to suffer; she is a high-spirited girl, and the 
ordeal would kill her. Letty could endure neither the 
scoffs, sneers, nor pity of the truly pious members of your 
congregation. It would be an outrage to submit her to 
such a trial. She is like a flower, and can live only in 
sunshine. I beg you to leave your daughter and myself to 
settle our own affairs according to our own judgment?” 

“ Is Letty legally your wife?” 

“ I do not suppose our Scotch marriage is legal out of 
Scotland,” replied the captain. 

“Why do you not make her your legal wife, then? I 
am a minister of the Gospel; let me marry you. I can 
procure a license with very little delay, and my blessing 
will rest on you if you do my unfortunate daughter this 
act of justice.” 

“Mr. Fletcher, I am ashamed to say it to you, but I 
can not make the dear girl my lawful wife. You will hate 
me — I deserve it. I had no wish to act as a scoundrel, but 
fate has proved too strong for me. Years ago I was mar- 
ried to a beautiful girl who ruined my life, changed my 
nature, and made me lose all faith in woman^s purity. In 
the hour of my greatest trouble, when I was on the verge 
of ruin, brought on by her mad caprices, she deserted me. 
We separated — ” 

“Are you a divorced man?” asked the minister, still 
clinging to hope, just as a drowning man wildly clutches 
a straw as the dark waters are about to ingulf him. 

“ I am not,” was the captain^s answer in a low tone. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


177 


‘‘ Villain!” exclaimed the clergyman, as he staggered and 
almost fell on the sofa, completely overwhelmed, as he now 
learned the real state of affairs. The hot, indignant blood 
rushed to his brow, then receded, leaving his face with a 
ghastly gray hue over it. 

“ 1 have tried over and over again to obtain a divorce. 
My dear sir, the laws of our land are radically wrong. We 
can obtain a divorce for infidelity, but not for drunken- 
ness. My wife has made my name a by- word in several 
cities. Madame Eumor has accused Mrs. Eustace Fan- 
shawe of being overfond of the wine-cup; but Madame 
Kumor, as usual, was wrong. My wife is only a victim of 
that vile drug, morphine. From the hour she left me I 
have never seen her until last night, and I havenT the 
slightest desire to ever see her again in this world. Some 
time ago I read her name among the list of a num- 
ber of people killed on the London and Brighton Road, 
and I was thankful to Heaven for my release, and that it 
was given me in time to do Letty justice. 1 was about to 
make your daughter my legal wife* when I received a letter 
from my lawyer informing me that the first reports of the 
accident had been inaccurate, and that in the latter ac- 
counts my wife^s name was on the list of the injured. 
Last night her "brother called here and I went to see her. 
She bade me take Letty to India with me as my sister. 
Poor Clara! she knew she could not live but a shoit time, 
so she told me that as soon as I received the news of her 
death I should marry Letty immediately. I followed her 
advice, came back here, told Letty the whole story, and 
asked her to accompany me to the East. She has consent- 
ed. Now I ask you not to influence her against going with 
me.^^ 

“ Letty is young and knows nothing of the world. Her 
reputation would be gone for life if she went with you to 
India. All the officers^ wi\^es would make her a target 
for their ill-natured remarks. In spite of her injuries. 


178 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


your wife may live months, even years, and Letty would be 
away from all her friends, alone in your power. I will 
never consent to such a quixotic scheme. She must return 
to Downham with me,"” said the minister, very decidedly.. 

“ Let me take her with me. 1 will hire a respectable 
woman as a companion for her; and I pledge you my word 
as an officer and a gentleman 1 will respect her and treat 
her as my sister until Clara’s death. ” 

Mr. Fletcher shook his head. 

“ I can consent to no such arrangement; the result 
would not be for Letty’s welfare. Do not let us waste 
words. Captain Fanshawe, but open that door and let my 
daughter accompany me without a scene.” 

“I’ll not open the door. Letty shall not leave me. 
She shall go with me without your consent!” cried Eus- 
tace, almost beside himself with rage. Never had his sin 
been brought home to him so forcibly as at that moment. 

Letty in the meantime had finished her preparations, 
and now tried to open the door. Finding it locked, she rat- 
tled the knob, but it did not yield to her touch. The 
frightened girl could hear the voices of her father and Cap- 
tain Fanshawe raised in dispute, but it was impossible for 
her to distinguish their words, so she screamed out in her 
fear and anguish: 

“ Open the door! Let me out! Let me out! Oh, open 
the door!” 

“ Letty is begging you to open the door. Captain Fan- 
shawe,” the minister said, trying to restrain his indigna- 
tion. 

“ I refuse to listen to her or to obey you, sir. I will not 
give up the woman I love,” was the captain’s stern reply. 

Letty, seeing no attention was paid to her appeals, 
turned the knob again with all her strength; but it was 
useless, the lock would not yield. She threw herself on 
her knees and prayed as she had never prayed before in her 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


179 


life as she listened with apprehension to the excited voices 
of the speakers in the next room. 

“ Captain Fanshawe, you are acting like a thief. You 
stole my child from me, and now you want to retain her 
by force, and by so doing to degrade and disgrace her even 
more, if that is possible, than you have already done. Oh, 
man, if you have an atom of feeling or a remnant of con- 
science loft, open the door and let me take my poor girl 
home. ^ ^ 

Mr. Fletcher pleaded as only a father could. Being an 
old man, he did not resort to violence, knowing well that 
he did not possess sufficient strength to wrest the key from 
the stubborn being before him. 

“ I tell you, Letty shall not leave this house if I can 
prevent her,’^ said Eustace, losing all his self-control at 
the prospect of being deprived of Letty. 

“ And I shall not leave this house without my daughter. 
1 shall ring for the proprietor of the hotel to break that 
door open if you do not unlock it.’"’ As he spoke, the minis- 
ter seized the bell-cord and held it with both hands. 

At this moment a third party entered the apartment un- 
seen and stood watching Captain Fanshawe with eyes that 
glittered with the baleful fires of rage and hate. The in- 
truder was Ralph Kingsmill, who had followed the minis- 
ter to Edinburgh by a later train. 

He made his way to the Argyle House and asked to be 
shown to Captain Fanshawe’s apartments. At the door of 
the drawing-room he told the waiter not to announce him, 
as he wished to surprise the captain. To this the waiter 
demurred; but when the young farmer slipped a couple of 
half crowns in his hand there were no further objections 
made. The waiter departed, and Ralph entered the room 
unannounced. 

Open that door this instant commanded Ralph. 

There was a moment^s silence. Ralph Eingsmill was 


180 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


livid with passion; the captain^s eyes were aflame, and his 
breath came quick and hard. 

‘‘ Meddler! fool! begone! This is no affair of yours!’^ 

“No affair of mine! Merciful powers!^^ ejaculated 
Kalph, angrily. 

Captain Fanshawe drew himself up to his full height 
and folded his arms. He stood on guard before Letty^s 
door. 

“You dare to tell me that it is no affair of mine,^^ con- 
tinued Kalph, huskily. “You took my promised . wife 
from my arms. I may not be of your social standing, but 
you are a coward if you will not give me the satisfaction 
you owe me.^^ 

“ I refuse to fight a madman, answered Eustace, coolly. 

“ Do you mean to say that you absolutely refuse to give 
me the only satisfaction that is in your power? I thought 
that our army officers possessed courage, that they were 
not cowards, was the young farmer’s scornful remark. 

“ How dare you stand there and talk to me like this? 
Begone, and don’t meddle in my affairs,” commanded the 
captain. 

In answer to this, Ralph Kingsmill walked up to Eus- 
tace. 

“ You dastard! you are a disgrace to the army and your 
country!” hissed the young man, as he deliberately slapped 
him across the face. 

“For Heaven’s sake, Ralph! I entreat you to restrain 
yourself. Remember, vengeance is not ours. ‘ Thou 
shalt not kill ’ is one of God’s commandments,” said 
Jacob Fletcher, as he laid his hand on Ralph’s arm, but 
the young farmer was fairly foaming with rage. He shook 
off the minister’s restraining hand, and with a horrible 
oath he sprung forward, seized Captain Fanshawe by the 
throat, and flung him to the floor. He put his knee on 
the chest of the prostrate man, clinched him with one 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


181 


powerful hand, put the other in the captain’s vest- 
pocket, drew out the key, and handed it to Mr. Fletcher. 

The minister opened the door of Letty’s room, and she 
sprung into the drawing-room, screaming: 

“ Don’t murder him, Ralph! don’t murder him!” 

Ralph at once released his prisoner, and walked to the 
middle of the floor, looking at Letty with a sad, weary ex- 
pression in his blue eyes. 

The captain staggered to his feet, and he stood for a mo- 
ment trying to regain his breath. The flush had faded 
f.rom his face, leaving it ghastly save for the cruel red 
mark of the brutal blow Ralph had given him. 

Letty my Letty, remember your promise,” said the 
captain, imploringly, as he caught her hand. 

“ Oh, Eustace!” wailed Letty, “ 1 must leave you. I 
daie not remain. You would not keep your compact. I 
must return and bear the punishment alone.” 

“ Letty darling, come to India with me!” pleaded Eus- 
tace. 

“No, sir; she goes with me,” said her father, as he 
took Letty by the arm, separating her from her lover. 
“ My daughter has spoken her last words to you. I shall 
spend the rest of my days teaching her to walk in the 
straight and narrow path of virtue. Come, Letty.” 

Captain Fanshawe rushed forward, but Ralph Kingsmill 
barred his passage. 

“Stand back!” he cried. “Don’t attempt to follow 
them; if you do, I will strangle you. You have ruined 
my life, and I ought to take yours!” 

“ You are welcome to it,” bitterly answered the captain. 

“ I don’t want it. A moment ago I urged you to give 
me satisfaction, because my judgment was blinded by rage. 

I did not think that Letty’s reputation would be ruined if 
we fought a duel. I leave you now to suffer a greater 
punishment than any I could inflict — I leave you to your 


182 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


remorse!’^ said Kalph Kiiigsmill, as he turned from the 
captain and walked out of the room. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

MRS. BRISTOW. 

On a bright, warm afternoon in the latter part of July, 
Florence and Annie Hoggard went up the steps that led to 
Mrs. Bristow^s door and rang the bell. It was a large cot- 
tage, about a mile out of Downham, on the road leading 
to the Sparrow-well tannery. 

The house was surrounded by large oak-trees, and had 
a neat lawn in front of it. Mrs. Bristow, the widow of 
Mr. Hoggard^s late partner, resided there with her two 
daughters. 

When the Misses Hoggard entered the parlor they, 
found little Alice Bristow lying upon a lounge near one 
of the windows propped up with pillows. The child ap- 
peared to be ill. 

Alice looked beautiful as she rested among the pillows. 
Her features were perfectly modeled, in fact she looked 
like a statue her face was so pale. Her eyes were large, 
and of that deep-blue shade that we so seldom see. Her 
hair fell in long, golden ringlets around her charming face, 
and covered her deformity when she walked. The poor 
child had fallen when she was three years old, and injured 
her spine. She was now ten years old, and the deformity 
was beginning to develop to an alarming extent. 

“ How do you feel to-day?’^ asked Annie Hoggard, 
kindly, as she bent over the little sufferer and kissed her 
hot, feverish lips. 

“ I do not feel so well as I did a few months ago. Miss 
Annie, replied Alice. 

Mrs. Bristow now entered and shook hands with the 
visitors. She had overheard her little daughter's remark 
as she came in. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


183 


“ Alice is not so well as usual. 1 wish I could carry her 
up to Loudon to see Doctor Palmer. I have been told he 
makes a specialty of such cases as hers."*^ 

“ I also have heard of him, and I believe he is very 
clever/^ answered Annie. 

“ Why do you not take Alice to him, Mrs. Bristow?'" 
asked Florence. 

“ Because I am waitijig for my affairs to be settled. 
It is a year since Mr. Bristow died, and nothing has been 
done yet." 

“It is all Mr. Fletcher's fault. If George Martin had 
lived everything would have been settled by this time. 
He was a business man," remarked Florence. 

“ Yes; it is a great pity he died so soon after my hus- 
band," said Mrs. Bristow, sighing as she spoke. 

“ Mr. Fletcher is a good man, but slow, and you will 
liave to have patience, Mrs. Bristow." 

“ Oh, I have tried to be patient. Miss Hoggard, but 
lately I have become discouraged, for I want to leave 
Downham and buy a small farm near AVest Lynn, where 1 
shall be near my brother and his family; besides, I am 
very anxious to take my .child to London, and see if her 
sufferings can be alleviated. Doctor Western advised me 
to do so as soon as possible." 

“ It is a shame Mr. Fletcher will not attend to your 
business," said Florence. 

“ Well, 1 have not cared about troubling the minister 
lately, because he has been quite ill. When is Miss Letty 
expected home?" Mrs. Bristow asked, turning toward 
Annie Hoggard. 

“ I do not know, Mrs. Bristow," was Annie’s answer. 

“It is high time she returned," remarked Miss Hog- 
gard. 

“ Florence, it is the first holiday Letty has ever taken," 
said Annie to her sister. 

“ Her visit to London is a mysterious affair, Mrs. Bris- 


184 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


tow. She left the picnic-party at King’s Lynn, and went 
from there to London.” 

“ How strange!” exclaimed Mrs. Bristow. 

‘‘ There were a great many peculiar reports in Down- 
ham about Letty Fletcher when she went away, and there 
are a good many more at present. She is about the 
queerest minister’s daughter I ever met,” said’ Florence, 
scornfully. 

“ Letty Fletcher is a warm-hearted girl, and 1 would 
be very unwilling to believe any ill-natured gossip about 
her,” answered Mrs. Bristow, firmly emphasizing her 
words. 

‘‘ You are right, Mrs. Bristow. I do not believe one 
iota of the scandal 1 hear. Downhamites are noted for 
minding other people’s business,” remarked Annie. 

“ Oh, you are both far too charitable. I don’t know 
anything about it, only what I have heard,” was the sharp 
reply of Florence Hoggard. 

“ And pray what have you heard about our minister’s 
daughter?” asked Mrs. Bristow, somewhat impatiently. 

“ That a week before our Sunday-school picnic she was 
seen in the Lovers’ Lane, near Bethel Chapel, walking 
with an army officer, who at that time was visiting the 
Herberts; that said gentleman had fallen desperately in 
love with Letty, sent her flowers, even called on her at the 
parsonage. I do not know anything about falling in love 
and all that sentimental sort of rubbish, but I do know if 
I were Letty Fletcher’s facther I would not allow my 
daughter to go to London, where that officer has gone.” 

Florence’s blue eyes snapped as she spoke. 

“ How do you know he has gone to London?” her host- 
ess asked, calmly. 

“ Because Mrs. Herbert’s maid, who visits ma’s cook, 
said so. We got the report direct enough, Mrs. Bristow. 
I would not be at all surprised to hear that Letty Fletcher 
has eloped. Mr. Fletcher never could see that anything 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


185 


Letty did was wrong — not even if he had three pairs of 
glasses on, he could not see what was going on under his 
very nose.^^ 

“ Letty is unlike^most girls of her age, and we should 
not compare her to young ladies who have had kind moth- 
ers to watch over them,^’ Mrs. Bristow kindly remarked. 

“You may be right, Mrs. Bristow; however, 1 think 
Letty Fletcher is not fit to be a minister’s daughter. She 
goes away mooning by herself, reads novels, recites verses 
from Shakespeare, sings, paints, and is fond of dress. She 
doesn^t care about district visiting, never takes any inter- 
est in the Bible Society, and is always bored by the Dorcas 
meetings. My dear Mrs. Bristow, I don^t believe she was 
even interested in our sewing society last winter. She 
liked to be on the river; and she was on the river about 
every day this summer. 1 don’t believe in a minister’s 
daughter carrying on in that fashion, it is abominable!” 

“ Don’t be too hard on Letty, Florence,” Annie said, 
looking up at her sister with a touch of compassion in her 
own face. Annie esteemed her absent friend and disliked 
hearing her character maligned. 

The conversation was now interrupted by a loud ring at 
the door-bell, and Annie said: 

“ That must be father, he promised to call for us on his 
way home.” 

The deacon entered the room almost as she was speak- 
ing. 

“How do you do, Mrs. Bristow?” said he, shaking 
hands with his partner’s widow. 

“ I am very well, thank you.” 

“ And how is little Alice?” said the deacon, as he 
walked to the lounge and looked at the child. 

“ I am not feeling well, sir,” replied the poor little in- 
valid, as she looked wistfully at the deacon. “ Mamma 
wants to take me to London to see another doctor. ” 

■“ Alice is right. I ought to take her to see Doctor 


186 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


Palmer. He has tlie reputation of 2 )erformi ng some won- 
•derful cures in similar cases. Doctor Western has recom- 
mended me to try him. It is my only hope.'’'' 

“lam sorry Alice is feeling so poorly/^ was the deacon’s 
only comment. 

“ I wish 1 could leave Downham on her account. I am 
almost temjited to accept Doctor Western’s oiler for my 
place. ” 

“ Do you mean to say that the doctor has really made 
such an offer to you?” asked Mr. Hoggard^, with a scowl 
on his face. 

“ Yes, he offered me a very fair price for the place. He 
says it would suit him very well, as a great part of his prac- 
tice is out of town.” 

“ I did not think Doctor Frank Western had money 
enough to purchase a barn, he is so fond of giving his 
time to the poor who never pay him a farthing,” the dea- 
con growled. 

“Then you have not heard the good news. His uncle 
in London died a few months ago, and left the doctor ten 
thousand pounds,” said Mrs. Bristow, smiling. 

“ Indeed!” ex(}laimed the deacon, thoroughly surprised. 

Florence Hoggard glanced at her sister and smiled know- 
ingly. Annie turned her blushing face away and looked 
out of the window. She felt happy to know the man she 
loved was placed in an independent position, and she was 
well pleased^ that her father should hear of his advance- 
ment in life. Annie knew that the young doctor was not 
a favorite with her father. 

“ If you sell this place, Mrs. Bristow, where do you in- 
tend to locate?” 

“I shall move to a small farm not far from my broth- 
er’s place.” 

“Ah! I know Mr. Hays’s place, it is a few miles this 
side of West Lynn.” 

“ Yes. 1 can raise my children there, and I will be 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 187 

near my brother and his family, and I will not be so lonely 
there as I am here since my husband’s death. ” 

“I wish we could settle up matters, Mrs. Bristow. Mr. 
Fletcher will not accept Mr. Crisp’s valuation. I believe 
Crisp to be an honest man, and he understands the value 
of the stock and fixtures, as he is in the same business; but 
the minister says he must have another estimate put upon 
the tannery, and also upon the good-will of the business. 
This is just the way matters now stand, and until Mr. 
Fletcher comes to terms I can not settle up with you,” said 
the deacon, stiffly. 

“ I am only sorry that 1 am obliged to wait on account of 
my poor child’s health. Doctor Western told me to see 
Doctor Palmer as soon as possible. He thinks that the 
great London physician will alleviate Alice’s sufferings, 
even if he can not cure her. ” 

“ If that is the case, you should take her to London im- 
mediately, Mrs. Bristow.” 

“ How can I, deacon? I haven’t the means to go there 
to reside. Alice is too delicate to bear a journey there and 
back every week. 1 wrote to Doctor Palmer, and he says 
we must live in London for at least three months, otherwise 
he would not undertake the case. It is impossible for me 
to leave Downham until my affairs are settled, though to 
tell the truth I am tempted to go to London at once, with- 
out waiting for Mr. Fletcher to act. ” 

“ You had better wait until you hear from me again, 
Mrs. Bristow. I will see Mr. Fletcher in a few days, and 
insist upon having a settlement at once.” 

“ Pray do so, Mr. Hoggard,” said Mrs. Bristow, as she 
accompanied her guests to the door and bade them good- 
bye. She sighed as she looked after the carriage that con- 
tained the Hoggard family, and said to herself: 

“ If the minister is not a business man, he is an honora- 
ble gentleman, and will not let the deacon rob us. Oli, I 
can not trust Samuel Hoggard; he would not give me one 


188 


SAINTS AND SlNNEUS. 


farthing if he could help it. John never had any faith in 
him. I must trust to Providence to protect me. 

The poor woman’s heart was sad as she sat down by her 
afflicted child. 

The deacon on the way home said to his daughter Flor- 
ence: 

“I am out of patience with Fletcher. Why can’t he 
accept Crisp’s valuation and settle the whole thing at 
once?” 

“Oh! he is not a business man, and he thinks you ought 
to pay more for Mrs. Bristow’s interest,” answered his 
daughter. 

“ Of course he does. 1 am sure I don’t want to take 
any unfair advantage of the poor creature, but 1 can’t 
afford to give more than it is worth,” remarked the dea- 
con. 

“ Certainly not,” chimed in Florence, who generally 
agreed with her father. 

“ I was only a boy when I entered Sparrow- well Tan- 
nery. I worked early and late, until I became old Will- 
iam Bristow’s head clerk. I worked for the old man for 
years before he gave me an interest in the firm. He 
wouldn’t have done so if he had thought his son could get 
along without me.” 

“ I do not suppose he would, father,” answered Flor- 
ence, as they drove up to the gate. 

Deacon Hoggard did not consider himself under the 
slightest obligation to the Bristow family. He thought he 
owed his present prosperity to his own energy and persever- 
ance. That he had once been a friendless waif was totally 
forgotten by him. He had left a wretched home in Ox- 
ford when he was a boy of only ten summers. He came to 
West Lynn to visit an uncle, who kept a small grocery 
store in that town. This individual found that he could 
hire a boy cheaper than he could board and clothe his 
nephew, therefore he took the latter to William Bristow 


SAInTS and SINNEHS. 


189 


and bound him as an apprentice. The tanner took a fancy 
to the forlorn boy, sent him to night-school, and treated 
him as a member of his own family. Hoggard advanced 
himself step by step, his master liked the boy’s pluck, 
and after years of trial he admitted him into partnership, 
giving the new member of the firm an equal share with his 
son. If old William Bristow could have foreseen that his 
protege would one day seek to take advantage of his son’s 
widow, Samuel Hoggard would have remained his clerk. 

“ 1 dare say Fletcher has an idea I am under some obli- 
gations to the Bristows. He forgets that I worked hard 
for the firm and made the business what it is. If the old 
man hadn’t given me a share, I would have set up for my- 
self and ruined the old concern,” the deacon went on 
harping to Florence as he assisted her to alight from the 
vehicle. 

“ Don’t worry about Mrs. Bristow’s interest, father. 
Take my advice, see Mr. Fletcher, and insist upon him ac- 
cepting your man’s estimate.” 

“ I think I will, Florence. You are right, my girl; you 
have an old head on your young shoulders,” replied the 
deacon, smiling at his favorite child as they walked to- 
gether into the house. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

WHAT love’s young DREAM SOMETIMES COMES TO. 

The fading light of a fair summer day gleams in 
myriad hues through the stained-glass windows of Deacon 
Hoggard ’s library. The light falls on the dark, polished 
floor, with its great red square of carpet, the pictures, 
bronzes and books, also on the figures of the deacon and his 
daughter Annie. 

The deacon sits in his arm-chair with wrathful eyes, the 
veins of his forehead are swollen and purple with the sup- 
pressed passion within him. And yet little has been said. 


190 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


and that little in a repressed tone much lower than the 
deacon was in the habit of addressing his daughter, because 
he did not wish his guest to overhear his remarks. 

It is only on the stage, perhaps, that people in the su- 
preme moment of despair make long speeches. In real 
life, in the hours of our need, we are apt to find ourselves 
mute. 

“ Mr. Bradley has done you the honor of proposing, and 
I do not want to hear any more of your objections to his 
suit. ” 

Father, you surely can not be in earnest. How can 
you respect such a brainless fop?^^ asked Annie, indig- 
nantly. 

“ Brainless fop? Why, he will inherit one of the largest 
fortunes in England cried the deacon, in a rage. 

‘‘ I can not marry him. 1 do not love him,^^ said 
Annie, slowly. 

“ Nonsense snapped her father. “ You do not know 
what you are talking about. Love! bosh! I haven^t the 
slightest patience when I hear girls talking of their hearts. 
Love will never butter your bread, my girl, nor shelter 
you. It is all moonshine; only fanatics believe in it. Any 
young woman ought to be proud to marry a man like 
Ernest Bradley. By Jove! you can^t find one like him 
every day in the year. And another item I wish to im- 
press on your mind is that there is not the slightest danger 
of his squandering the handsome fortune he will inherit. 
1 have given him to understand that I shall accej)t him as 
my son-in-law, and I will not have any nonsense. When 
he speaks to you, I desire you to confirm my consent. ’’ 

“ Oh, father !^^ cried Annie, bursting into tears. 

“ You know when I say a thing I mean it. You are my 
child, and I have a right to dispose of your future as I 
please. If I find that young doctor in my house again I 
will order him out; and mark my words, you will live to 
thank me for it some of these days.” 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


191 


Anilio made iio reply. She possessed a gentle, yielding 
nature, and was totally unfit to battle with her father^s 
iron will. 

“ Kemember what I have told you: I insist upon your 
treating Ernest Bradley properly,"" said the deacon, severe- 
ly, as he arose and walked out of the apartment, leaving 
Annie standing a picture of sorrow and despair. 

The poor girl was both surprised and indignant that her 
father should choose a husband for her. She was not 
aware that her sister Florence had told their father that 
Annie was in love with Dr. Western. 

The wily deacon had received the intelligence coolly, as 
he happened to be very well aware of the state of aft'airs. 
There was little that transpired in the household which 
escaped his observation. About this time his business 
called him to Liverpool, where he was the guest of James 
Bradley, the rich glass manufacturer, and an old friend of 
the deacon"s. Mr. Hoggard"s shrewdness foresaw all the 
advantages accruing from this visit, and he at once invited 
the son and heir of his host to return with • him to Down- 
harn. The deacon knew that Annie was an attractive girl, 
that men admired her and wanted to marry her. The 
mistake had been one of their own making, for Annie had 
never led them on to such a point. 

Her father was delighted when he saw that young Brad- 
ley evidently thought his youngest daughter very fascinat- 
ing. Samuel Hoggard congratulated himself on the suc- 
cess of his own finesse. He knew the young man would 
inherit a fine estate. The disposition and habits of the 
future owner of that estate the deacon did not trouble 
himself about. It was his firm belief that women never 
could or would understand what was best for their own 
welfare, and he was determined that his daughters should 
wed men who possessed wealth. 

The worthy deacon worshiped the golden calf, yea, 
bowed down his soul before the shrine of Mammon with 


192 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


the same zeal as the Israelites did when they adored their 
golden idol as the god of Israel. 

According to Samuel Hoggard^s ideas, a man didn^t 
amount to anything in this world who did not possess 
money. He thought most men brought their own troubles 
upon themselves by their improvidence. He loathed a 
spendthrift— such a person was the greatest criminal on 
earth in his eyes. Let a man be ever so virtuous, ever so 
talented — if he was poor the deacon despised him. A 
favorite saying of his was, “ There is nothing like money 
in this world; people will not ask you how you have earned 
it, provided yon have a large balance at your banker’s; the 
world will respect you.” 

Mr. Hoggard would have been inexpressibly shocked if 
you had told him he loved gold better than his own soul. 
He believed he was a true Christian. He had been the 
deacon of Bethel Chapel for years, because it suited him to 
be consideied a thoroughly practical member of a Christian 
congregation. 

Ernest Bradley, the young gentleman selectee^ by Mr. 
Hoggard for his future son-in-law, was the spoiled darling 
of an indulgent mother. He had been sent to Cambridge 
and left there without taking any degree, but he had suc- 
ceeded in learning all the airs and graces of a coxcomb. 
The only lesson which he did not have to be taught — his 
knowledge came to him by inheritance — was the value of 
pounds, shillings, and pence. During his sojourn at Cam- 
bridge he had never been known to indulge in any reck- 
less extravagance. Mr. Ernest could always accommodate 
his college chums and advance them a loan at ten per cent. 

The deacon admired this youth immensely, for was he 
not a man after his own heart; it must be confessed that 
he lacked the deacon’s brains; therefore, when Ernest 
Bradley asked Mr. Hoggard ’s permission to pay his re- 
spects to his youngest daughter, the deacon was in raptures. 

Annie Hoggard, after jier father had left the library. 


saints and SINNEKS. 


193 


crept upstairs to her own room and wept as if her heart 
would break. She knew from bitter experience that she 
dared not oppose her father. Was there any one of the 
family who would dare to oppose him? 

As she sat in the moonlight by the window indulging in 
her sad reverie she saw Dr. Western drive past the house. 
Annie knew he was going to visit some of his patients, or 
perchance to soothe the agony of some dying person. She 
sighed as she thought of the doctor^s noble, unselfish life. 
Her lips quivered with emotion as she murmured: 

If I could only tell him!'^ 

The doctor had asked her to be his wife at the picnic, 
and Annie had confessed that she loved him, but was afraid 
her father would not consent to their marriage; but she 
had promised to be true to her love and wait until the 
young doctor was able to support a wife. 

The young girl knew that the legacy bequeathed to 
Prank Western had made him independent, and her hap- 
piness would have been complete if her father would only 
listen to the young physician^s suit for her hand; but she 
had never dreamed that the deacon would insist upon 
' marrying to please him. It was with a sad heart that 
Annie retired. 

The next morning she joined the family with a pale face 
and mournful, dejected air. After breakfast she stole off 
as soon as possible with her sketch-book to a quiet nook 
near the river, as she longed to be alone with her misery. 
For a long time she sat watching with a misty, far-ofi look 
the tiny waves slipping up and down the white sands; then 
1 , she took out her pencil and essayed to sketch the scene be- 

fore her. She started as she heard a step coming quickly 
down the path behind her, and a man's voice singing as he 
approached : 

“ Make me no gaudy chaplet.” 

Annie glanced around half petulantly as the singer drew 
7 near. 


7 


194 


SAINTS AND SINNERS* 


“Ah, I thought I would find you here,’^ said Ernest 
Bradley, sitting down beside Annie. 

She looked at her admirer rather disdainfully, and was 
silent. His society was not to her liking, and she did not 
take the slightest trouble to conceal her annoyance at the 
enforced tete-a-tete between them. 

“ Miss Annie, I am going home to-morrow, said her 
would-be suitor, with what he considered a very captivat- 
ing look. “ Will you not miss me?^^ 

Annie made no reply, but sighed as she thought of Dr. 
Western. 

The young millionaire thought to himself, “ I had bet- 
ter tell her why I followed her here. She looks grieved at 
the idea of my returning home.^^ 

“ Annie,^^ he said, aloud, bending over his fair compan- 
ion, who had become suddenly intent on her drawing, “ I 
do not wish to leave Downham without asking you a ques- 
tion. I hope you will answer it frankly. 

Thus addressed, Annie felt that the crisis of her life had 
come, and she nerved herself for the conflict. 

She inwardly quaked though outwardly she was calm 
enough as she answered: 

“ I am ready to answer any question that you see fit to 
ask me.^^ 

Ernest looked at her for a moment, then said, abruptly: 

“ Annie, do you think that you could ever love me?” 

“No, Mr. Bradley. I do not believe I could ever love 
you or marry you.” 

“ Why not?” he demanded, looking astonished. 

“ Because you are too fine a young gentleman to make a 
good husband. You are too good-looking,” was Annie’s 
prompt answer. 

“ It is the first time I ever heard a lady make such an 
objection as that to a man who adores her,” drawled out 
the young man. 

“ Yes, you are too good-looking. You are a coxcomb — 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


196 


excuse me using the word — a dandy par excellence. Why, 
you know you told me yourself that your sobriquet at Cam- 
bridge was ‘ pretty boy. " Your complexion is fairer than 
mine, you curl your hair, perfume yourself, and keep a 
valet to dress you.^^ 

“ I am sure most gentlemen keep a valet, grumbled 
Ernest. 

“ Which I -consider a very useless appendage. The idea 
of a man having another man to dress him is something I 
can not understand. I am a girl, and even if my father 
permitted me, I would not have a maid. I can brush my 
own clothes and arrange my own hair,^^ said Annie, smil- 
ing. 

‘‘ That is more than half the daughters of our rich com- 
moners can do, Annie. I admire you more than any girl 
I ever saw in my life; your father has given me his consent 
to address you. 

‘‘ Do you wish me to marry you for your fortune?’^ in- 
terrupted Annie. 

No, I do not,^^ Ernest admitted, after a pause. 

Then I can not marry a man whom I do not love,'’ 
said Annie, firmly. 

But you know you might learn to love me in time.. I 
will be patient and will wait for the next two years and try 
to win your regard. When I return home I will discharge 
my man. I will go into the office, as my father wishes me 
to learn the business, if you will only give me a hope of 
winning you." 

Annie's suitor was earnest for the first time in his pam- 
pered life. 

I would not marry you if you were the last man on 
earth, because I could never love you. I like you well 
enough, and believe that some of these days you will settle 
down and become a sensible member of society. Take my 
advice, go home and enter your father’s office. " 


196 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


I shall do so to please you/^ the young man replied as 
he nervously pulled the waxed ends of his mustache. 

“ Not to please me, but do it as a duty. We were all 
put here to do some sort of work. You will feel happier 
in being actively employed than you do now leading an 
idle life. You will not only please your father, but you 
will find as soon as you become acquainted with his busi- 
ness transactions that you will be able to relieve him of a 
great amount of care. This is your duty, and you should 
do it cheerfully. 

“ Miss Annie, I feel awfully cut up at your decision; 
but 1 am not worthy of you. 

“ Will you be my friend?’^ asked Annie, with one of 
her rare smiles. 

“ You know I will as long as I live,'’’ answered Ernest, 
fervently. 

“ Then please do not say anything to niy father of our 
interview,” stammered the embarrassed girl, as she blushed 
painfully. 

“ 1 will give you my word of honor that 1 will not do 
so.” 

“ How thankful I feel!” exclaimed Annie, as she turned 
to the young man and impulsively gave him her hand. 
“ You can not conceive how much you have relieved my 
anxiety. ” 

“ I repeat to you, 1 shall let your father know nothing 
of what has passed between us,” reiterated' Ernest, retain- 
ing Annie’s little white hand. 

“ You are very kind,” said she, quietly withdrawing her 
hand. 

“ Not at all. 1 would do anything to please you. 1 
will write to your fathei’ and tell him 1 find it will not suit 
me to, marry for some years to come. I’ll manage to take 
all the blame on myself, and Mr. Hoggard shall never 
know I have spoken to you. I will do my best to make 
him believe I have altered my mind.” 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


197 


“ You can never know how grateful I feel to you, 
Ernest/" answered Annie, addressing him for the first 
time by his Christian name. 

“We will always be friendly, Annie; and I want you 
to promise me that if ever you need a real friend you will 
call on me. You will find that I am not utterly destitute 
of manhood, though 1 am a fop. 

Annie crimsoned as she stammered: 

“lam very sorry I hurt your feelings, but — "" 

“ You did quite right,"" interrupted Ernest. “ You 
read me a lesson, and that is something no one else had 
the moral courage to do. In the future, if I can not win 
your love, I shall at least prove myself worthy of your re- 
spect. Now I will bid you good-bye, for I intend to leave 
here by the next train. I can find some plausible excuse 
for my sudden departure."" 

“ Good-bye, then, and may your life be a happy one."" 

Annie gave him her hand for the second time. 

“ Farewell, Annie,"" said Ernest. 

He raised her hand to his lips and she felt a tear fall on 
it. This grieved her for the pain she had given him; and 
as she saw him disappear behind the trees, she murmured; 

“ He has a nobler heart than I thought he possessed."" 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE DETECTIVE"S REPORT. 

Before a great carved table strewn with business-like 
papers and letters innumerable sits Samuel Hoggard and a 
gentleman about thirty-five or even older. One can not 
guess his age by his face, which is smooth-shaven and 
slightly florid. The eyes, not very large, are of a blue- 
gray color; they are introspective, inscrutable eyes; some- 
times they are keen and restless. Their possessor is below 
the medium height, broad-shouldered, and thoroughly En- 
^ glish in physique. 


198 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


He sits opposite the deacon in the large office-chair with 
all the ease and grace of a drawing-room lidbituL Seth 
Williams has the bearing of a gentleman, though he is 
considered to be one of the shrewdest detectives in Eng- 
land. 

1 arrived late last night, Mr. Hoggard. I came be- 
cause I have completed your case,^^ remarked the detect- 
ive, after conversing with his patron for a few minutes 
on ordinary topics. 

“ I believe the young lady has returned to Downham?’^ 

Yes; I came on the same train with her. However, we 
will commence, if you please, at the beginning. 

“ Proceed, said the deacon. 

‘‘ Mr. Hoggard, when you applied about a month ago to 
Scotland Yard for my services in a private case, and my 
chief detailed me for as long a time as your case should re- 
quire my attention, I came to you for instructions, and this 
is what you told me: That young girl — your minister's 
daughter — had left Downham somewhat mysteriously; that 
no one had seen her return with the Sunday-school picnic- 
party; that you were positive you had seen her get into a 
first-class railway carriage at the King’s Lynn Station; that 
most persons believed she had returned from the picnic 
with her father, and that she left Downham the next 
morning to visit some friends of the Reverend Mr. Fletcher. 
You also furnished me with the name of the gentleman 
you suspected to be the companion of Miss Fletcher on her 
journey.” 

‘‘ Yes, sir, that is true. I believe I am the only person 
in Downham, Mr. Williams, who suspects Letty Fletcher. ” 

“ I think I can convince you,” replied the detective, 
“ that your suspicions were not unfounded.” 

And opening a note-book he referred to it from time to 
time as he proceeded with his narrative. 

First, then, Mr. Hoggard,” he began, “ I commenced 
to work up the case here. I discovered Mr. Fletcher re- 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


199 


turning to Dovviiham without his daughter. I then went 
to London and looked over the registers of the Brunswick 
House, the Langham, and St. James hotels; then to 
Almond’s, which is a private hotel on Clifford, now Bond 
Street. There I saw the names of Miss Fletcher and Cap- 
tain Faushawe on the house register.” 

“Well done!” exclaimed Samuel Hoggard, staring in 
amazement at the detective as the latter made the state- 
ment of the discovery of the suspected parties at a London 
hotel. “ You see I was right, Mr. Williams. It was Miss 
Fletcher who got on the London train which left King’s 
Lynn just before my train did.” 

Seth Williams went on turning over the leaves of his 
note-book. 

“ I imagined that they intended to remain at Almond’s, 
and overslept myself. It was not until noon of the next 
day I looked after Captain Fanshawe. I fortunately 
reached the hotel just as they were about leaving it. Of 
course I jumped into a cab and followed them to another 
railway station, where they took a train bound for the 
North. They got out at Gretna Green — where they were 
married.” 

“ Married!” uttered the deacon, astonished. 

“ According to Scotch law. A Gretna Green marriage 
is not considered legal out of Scotland. ” 

“Humph! this is interesting. Where did the newly 
married couple spend their honey-moon?” 

“ At the Argyle House, Edinburgh.” 

“ So that is where Mr. Fletcher went a few days ago?” 
the deacon half said to himself. 

“ Yes, sir. I saw both the minister and Mr. Ralph 
Kingsmill at the Argyle House,” answered Seth Williams. 

“ In the name of wonder, why did Miss Fletcher return 
if she had any claim on the captain?” asked Samuel Hog- 
gard, with a puzzled expression. 

“ Because Miss Fletcher has not the slightest legal claim 


200 


SAIKTS AKD SINKEKS. 


on Captain Fanshawe. 1 had some conversation with Lee- 
son, the captain’s valet. He must have informed his mas- 
ter, for they both searched for me in the garden of the 
hotel, but I eluded them, as it was quite dark, and I had 
very little trouble to conceal myself. . 

“ They gave up the hunt; but as the captain’s man ap- 
peared to be on the watch, I was obliged to remain in my 
hiding-place for about an hour, when Leeson disappeared. 

“ I was about to leave the garden when I heard angry 
voices issuing from Captain Fanshawe’s apartments. I 
crept up the flight of stone steps which led directly to a 
balcony beneath the drawing-room windows of the cap- 
tain’s suite. There I overheard a conversation between 
the captain and his brother-in-law. Captain Raddles, which 
led me to shadow the latter party. ” 

“Was Captain Fanshawe a widower.’” asked the dea- 
con. 

“ No. His lawful wife. Captain Raddles’s sister, is now 
seriously ill at the Royal Arms, which is not very far from 
the Argyle House. Mrs. Eustace Fanshawe was one of the 
victims of the London and Brighton Railway disaster. 
Yesterday Miss Fletcher left the hotel in Edinburgh with 
her father and Ralph Kingsmill. To-morrow Captain 
Fanshawe sails with his regiment in the ‘ Prince Albert ’ 
for Malta, en route to India. ” 

“ You have done your work well, Mr. Williams. Please 
give me your bill, sir,” said Mr. Hoggard. 

The detective took the bill out of his pocket and handed 
it to his patron, who looked over it carefully, and then 
taking several crisp bank-notes from his pocket-book, 
handed them to the detective. 

“ Thank you, sir,” said Mr. Williams, as he receipted 
the bill which the deacon handed back to him for that 
purpose. 

“ I shall be glad to employ you again if 1 have occa- 
sion,” remarked the deacon, as he shook hands with the 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


201 


Scotland Yard gentleman at the door of the Sparrow- well 
tannery. 

After the departure of the detective, Samuel Hoggard 
looked at his watch and found it was almost four o’clock. 
He went into his tan-yard, and saw that a quantity of hides 
were properly packed, then stepped into his gig, and drove 
to his store in Downham. 

The sign of the old firm of Bristow & Hoggard,’^ in 
large letters, hung over the door. “ Foreign and Domes- 
tic Calf Skins, Bufi Grain, Split Leather, and Shoe Find- 
ings, was painted on the glass of the large shop- windows. 

As you entered Samuel Hoggard’s place of business on 
the right, rows of small shelves were arranged Teaching 
from the floor to the ceiling. On these were to be found 
every description of shoe findings. Bundles of lasts of 
every size and make were hung on hooks at the back part 
of the store. Rolls of leather of all styles were distributed 
on the shelves to the left of the store. Sample cards of 
the different assortments of goods lay on the counter. At 
a high desk near the window sat Lot Burden, busily en- 
gaged balancing the accounts, as it was the end of the 
week. At the counter stood David Crisp, looking at some 
red morocco which the salesman was showing him when 
the deacon entered. 

“ Good-afternoon, Crisp. How are you?” said the pro- 
prietor of the store, shaking hands with his friend. 

Very well, thank you.” 

“ How is trade your way?^’ 

‘‘ Rather slow, deacon, at present. ” 

“ This is the dull season, and we can not expect busi- 
ness to be brisk; things will be different next month. I 
have several large orders from a London house, and the 
busy season has not yet commenced.” 

“ Then you are more fortunate than your neighbors, 
deacon,” grumbled Mr. Crisp. 

‘‘ I do not know about that. Crisp. 1 advertise largely. 


202 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


I believe in printer’s ink; there is nothing like it. My 
motto is, ‘ Business energy and advertisement.’ ” 

“ By the way, deacon, has Mr. Fletcher come to any 
conclusion about Mrs. Bristow?” 

“ Not yet. He still declares he will not accept your 
valuation, but 1 think 1 can compel him to do so;” and a 
dangerous light gleamed in the speaker’s shrewd gray eyes. 

“ It seems strange that your minister should have sud- 
denly become so suspicious. He is the last man in the 
world 1 would suspect of developing into a smart business 
man,” remarked David Crisp. 

“You are right, Mr. Crisp. I suppose some of our 
meddlesome Downham folks have been putting queer 
notions into Mr. Fletcher’s head. Mrs. Bristow is getting 
impatient; she wants matters settled as soon as possible, 
and I am determined to make Mr. Fletcher amenable to 
her wishes.” 

“ I hope you will make him come to terms, for I am 
afraid it will put me in a bad position if he does not accept 
my last valuation, deacon.” 

“ Don’t worry yourself, my friend. The minister is in 
my power, and if he does not come to terms willingly, 1 
shall compel him to accept your valuation,” said Mr. 
Hoggard, in a determined tone of voice that boded ill for 
the conscientious clergyman. 

Lot Burden heard Mr. Fletcher’s name mentioned, and 
tried to overhear the conversation of the two men about 
the minister, but they had walked away to the upper part 
of the store, where they talked in a lower tone. Lot was 
aware that Letty Fletcher had come back to Downham, for 
he had m^t Lydia on her way to market that morning, and 
she had told him of her young lady’s arrival. Lot felt 
grieved about Mr. Fletcher, especially as Lydia had in- 
formed him the minister’s daughter was not so much to 
blame as they had imagined. 

Mr. Crisp bought a large quantity of goods and ordered 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


203 


them to be sent to his shop in West Lynn. The deacon 
always allowed Crisp a liberal discount on his bills, as he in- 
variably paid cash for all that he purchased. As he was 
bidding the worthy deacon good-bye, Samuel Hoggard 
said to him: 

“ Suppose you drive over next Sunday morning, go to 
church with the girls, and dine with us after. 

Thank you, deacon. I shall be delighted to do so,^' 
answered Crisp, his face lighting up with pleasure. He 
always felt flattered by an invitation to the deacon^s house, 
for he admired Florence Hoggard and was fond of her 
society. 

The deacon walked over to the desk after Mr. Crisp had 
gone, and said to Lot Burden: 

“ Crisp is one of our best customers. He’s a business 
man, and will be a rich one some of these days if I am not 
mistaken. ” 

“ Yes; he is a sharp one,” replied Lot, rising and put- 
ting away the ledger, for it was time to shut up and go 
home. 

“ By the way. Burden, Florence told me that Miss 
Fletcher came home last night. Do you know if it is 
true?” 

“ Yes, sir; I met the minister’s housekeeper this morn- 
ing, and she said her young lady had got home.” 

“ Humph! Did Lydia tell you the name of the family 
Miss Fletcher visited in London?” 

‘‘ No, sir,” promptly replied Lot. 

“It is strange that Miss Fletcher went off on a visit on 
the evening of our Sunday-school picnic without saying a 
word to any one. It looks rather curious. Lot; but I sup- 
pose it was all right?” 

“ Of course it is. Miss Fletcher is one of the best young 
ladies I ever knew. There could be nothing wrong with 
her. Mr. Hoggard, 1 will be on hand in the morning be- 
fore they ship those hides.” 


204 


SAINTS AND SINNBES. 


“ Yes; get there before the men, Lot, and be sure that 
Brown gets them off by the first freight train. 

“ I will, sir. Good-evening, sir/^ said Lot, as he bowed 
and left the store and passed down the street on his way 
home. 

Mr. Hoggard waited for his clerk to cover up the goods 
and fasten up the store securely, then the deacon got into 
his waiting gig and drove leisurely homeward, feeling very 
well satisfied with the result of his day’s sales. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

ON THEIE WAY TO BETHEL CHAPEL. 

The bright summer sun was pouring down a flood of 
rich golden light on the crowds hurrying to their respective 
chapels. As it was only a little after ten o’clock, the mem- 
bers of Mr. Fletcher’s congregation who arrived first lin- 
gered on the walks of the lawn before the chapel to indulge 
in some gossip. 

Bethel Chapel was a quaint, old-fashioned gray struct- 
ure, somewhat Gothic in its style of architecture, with a 
sloping lawn leading to the road. The principal interior 
ornaments of the chapel were seven large, beautiful, 
stained-glass windows, each representing a scene from the 
life of Christ. Three of these windows were placed on each 
side, and the large one representing the Lord’s Supper was 
in the center. When the sunbeams fell on this window, it 
flooded the chancel and pulpit with its rich tints. 

Mr. Fletcher was fond of Bethel Chapel; its quaint de- 
sign and richly tinted windows suited his taste. He liked 
a cheerful place of public worship. 

The chapel bell was pealing forth its call to the congre- 
gation to assemble as Deacon Hoggard entered the gate 
that opened on the principal entrance to the chapel. 

The deacon had started earlier than usual as he desired 
to see Mr. Fletcher before he ascended the pulpit. As the 


SAINTS AND' SINNERS. 

senior deacon went up the chapel steps he met Deacon 
Prabble, who had been waiting for him. 

‘‘ Good-morning, Brother Hoggard/' said Deacon Brab- 
ble; he was one of the greatest admirers Samuel Hoggard 
had in ' the village, because he was the grocer^s best cus- 
tomer. 

Good-morning, Brother Brabble.^' 

“ You have been away for a few days,^^ said Mr. Brabble 
to his friend. 

“Yes; I have been contemplating the beauties of nat- 
ure, and doing a bit of business at the same time. I pur- 
chased some ground for a new tannery I was looking at a 
little over a month ago, and it kept me until Friday morn- 
ing, replied Mr. Hoggard. 

“ Ah! I missed you the first part of the week, and on 
inquiring for you, I was told you had gone away for a 
few days. I knew if you had returned 1 was certain to 
meet you this morning before entering chapel, because 
you are always on time. 

“ 1 have not been late at public worship in twenty 
years, said Deacon Hoggard, complacently. 

“ You are always prompt in everything. Brother Hog- 
gard, remarked the grocer. 

“ Business energy, push, and advertising — there you 
have the secret of my success in life. Look at me. Broth- 
er Brabble. I went into the Sparrow-well tannery at half 
a crown a week — now I own that tan-yard. I am Presi- 
dent of the Downham Penny Savings-Bank, and the 
wealthiest man in the whole place; but that does not satisfy 
me. Brother Brabble. I am not going to stop until I am 
an M. P. ThaBs my ambition. To-day there are men in 
Parliament with not half my common sense. 

“You are right. Brother Hoggard; common sense is the 
thing, and there is not a man in England who has more of 
it than you have. 1 donT believe even John Bright has so 
much. 


206 


SAIlfTS ANP STN’.NERS. 


“You flatter me, Brother Brabble; but as you say, com- 
mon sense is the greatest gift of all. College-bred men 
seldom have it. For instance, there is our minister; be 
has very little of the commodity; they say he is an Oxford 
man. Do you know that for some time back I have been 
thinking we need a younger man than Mr. Fletcher. We 
want some one to preach a sermon that people will talk 
about — a man with a louder voice — a man of success, for 
there is no doubt of the fact that we are running down.'’’ 

“ True, Brother Hoggard, we are. We want a man who 
has the moral courage to stand up in the pulpit and de- 
nounce our social abuses, above all, I want a man who will 
denounce the co-operative stores. 

“ Certainly, Brother Brabble, we need a man whose in- 
terests will be ours.^^ 

“ Yes, sir; the co-operative system is ruining my trade. 
Beople fancy they can bay their groceries cheaper at the 
co-operative store, and they go there. 1 have been losing 
customers every day since that place has been opened. 1 
donT see how they manage to sell certain lines of goods so 
cheap; I canT afford to do it, for I sell the best goods at 
the lowest market prices. 

“ Suppose I find a sufficient reason. Brother Brabble, 
for asking Mr. Fletcher to resign, will you support me?^^ 

“ Most assuredly. Brother Hoggard; for you are always 
right."' 

“ How sweet it is for brethren to dwell together in unity I 
It is like the precious oil pouring down Aaron’s beard," 
replied the senior deacon, with a bland smile. 

“It is time to go in, is it not?" the junior deacon re- 
marked. 

“No; we have almost a quarter of an hour yet, and I 
am going to the vestry, as I wish to see Mr. Fletcher pri- 
vately before the service commences. " The two deacons 
walked to the chapel door together, and Deacon Brabble 
stood back respectfully to let Mr. Hoggard enter first. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


207 


‘‘ After you, my friend. He that humbleth himself 
shall be exalted, said Samuel Hoggard, smiling, as he 
drew back, permitting the grocer to go in before him. 

Lot Burden was coming up the walk and saw the two 
deacons go into the chapel, and he was glad not to have 
met them; but he was somewhat annoyed when he caught 
a glimpse of Peter Greenacre coming up the side path. 

Lot met Peter at the bottom of the stone steps, and 
smiled as ho saw how the latter was brushed up after his 
Saturday night^s carouse. 

“Good-morning, Peter. 1 didn'^t think you would be 
able to attend chapel this morning. 

“ I couldn’t think of missing one of Mr. Fletcher’s ser- 
mons. Our minister always refreshes my soul,” answered 
Peter, gravely. 

“ You must need refreshing after the beastly state of 
intoxication I saw you in yesterday afternoon.” 

Peter looked somewhat ashamed of himself for a mo- 
ment, then he answered humbly: 

“ We all fall from grace at times, Mr. Burden.” 

“ Yes, Peter, at times; but we do not all keep on fall- 
ing as you do. What is the use of your coming to church 
Sunday morning if you go to work on Monday morning 
and get drunk before you have earned your wages?” 

Peter did not reply to Lot Burden’s remarks, for he 
knew that he could not contradict what he said. 

“ Peter, you’re a tramp. ” 

“ I am unfortunate, sir.” 

“ Unfortunate, because you are too fond of drink. You 
were old Mr. Bristow’s foreman, and had a good salary, 
until you let rum become your master. Pray, what good is 
it to you to sober up and come here every Sunday to listen 
to Mr. Fletcher?” 

“ A great deal, Mr. Burden. I drink in every word Mr. 
Fletcher utters.” 

“ Well, drink in all of Mr. Fletcher’s words, but don’t 


208 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


drink up any more spirits/^ answered Lot, as Peter entered 
Bethel Ohapel. Lot did not go in just then, but turned 
around and saw his uncle, who was considered quite a 
character in Downham. 

Uncle Bamberry kept a linen drapery’s shop in the vil- 
lage. He was very deaf, and used an ear-trumpet during 
the week, even when he assisted his clerk to wait on the 
customers, but he invariably came to chapel without it. 

“ How are you, uncle, and how is your infirmity 
asked Lot, as he shook hands with the old man. 

“ My wife? Oh, she is all right. I left her at home.^^ 

‘‘ 1 was not asking after Aunt Susan, for I saw her as I 
passed the house this morning. She was sitting at the win- 
dow; I suppose you wear her out screaming at you. How 
is your infirmity?^^ called out Lot again, in a louder tone. 

About the same, Lot.^^ 

“ You snored in chapel last Sunday, Uncle Bamberry.’’^ 

“ Sermon, eh?^^ said the old man. 

“No, I said you snored during the sermon, repeated 
Lot, still louder. 

“ I haven’t heard a sermon in thirty years. 

“ You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you vain, old 
sinner. Why don’t you bring your ear-trumpet?’ ’ screamed 
Lot. “ What is the use of your coming to church if you 
don’t listen to the sermon?” 

“ I can’t hear it, but I suppose it is all right,” answered 
Uncle Bamberry. 

“ If I were you I’d take a seat in the gallery where you 
can go to sleep comfortably without being remarked.” 

“ I won’t give up my corner. Lot; I have sat in the 
'same place for the last thirty years,” answered the old 
man, looking quiet vexed. 

“ Keep your corner, uncle, but don’t snore,” Lot called 
out, as the old man pushed by him into the chapel. 

“If I stand here much longer, and talk to every one 
that goes in. I’ll be hoarse, ” muttered Lot. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


200 


Mr. Fletcher now crossed the path separating the par- 
sonage from the chapel, and Lot saw him and waited to* 
greet him. 

Good -morning. Lot,"' said the minister, coming up 
the path as he spoke. 

Good-morning, sir. I hope you feel better. Do not 
be nervous, sir; I have been talking to people, and as far 
as I can ascertain, nothing is known about Miss Letty. 
Last night I actually went to the tavern — I never think of 
being seen there — to see if I could hear anything. Depend 
upon it, your daughter's secret has not been discovered, 
or I would have heard of it the first thing. 

“ Thank you. Lot; you have proved a good friend to 
me in this trouble;" and the minister gratefully gave his 
hand to the young man. 

‘‘ I only wish, Mr. Fletcher, it lay in my power to do 
more. I shall never forgive myself for letting that rascal 
Leeson hoodwink me as he did. 

It was not your fault. Lot, my friend," answered the 
clergyman, sadly. 

No, sir; it was not, but I feel bad about it all the 
same," replied the honest fellow, with tears in his eyes. 
He hastily entered the chapel to hide his' emotion. 

Lot felt very bitterly toward Captain Fanshawe's valet 
for his deceit about the tickets. Lot imagined he could 
have prevented Letty's elopement if he had known that 
they were taking her to London instead of Downham. 

Mr. Fletcher lingered at the chapel door as he saw 
Ralph Kingsmill approaching. The young farmer was 
looking his best. The sad expression on his handsome face 
had the efiect of softening the stern, determined look his 
countenance usually wore. His tall, manly form was 
clothed in a handsome black broadcloth suit, which became 
him better than the corduroys he was in the habit of wear- 
ing during the week. 


210 


SAINTS AND SINNEES. 


“ Has anything been found out, Mr. Fletcher?^^ he 
anxiously asked as soon as he reached the minister’s .side. 

No, Ealph; so far we are safe,” replied Mr. Fletcher. 

‘‘ Thank Heaven! How is Letty?” the young farmer 
asked, abruptly. 

‘‘ Poor girl, she is trying to bear up, but it is a hard 
struggle. ” 

‘‘lam going to bid you good-bye now, Mr. Fletcher. ‘ I 
leave Downham to-night, most likely forever. My farm 
is disposed of already, and as soon as the service is over I 
will take a last look at the graves of my parents — then 
farewell to Downham.” 

“ My lad, that is a hard thing for you to say to me, 
whom I expected to be my son. ” 

“ Ah! Mr. Fletcher, I should have known that Letty 
could not love a great rough fellow like me. Tell her 
good-bye for me. Tell her that while my heart beats she 
will be the sweetest woman in the world to me. ” The 
young man tried vainly to keep his voice steady. 

“ I will, Ealph, I will. God bless you and guard you! 
Good-bye — good-bye!” Mr. Fletcher gave Kalph’s hand a 
firm, long pressure; he knew the parting was lifelong. 

The minister watched his young friend enter the chapel 
with a heavy heart; then he turned to the' parsonage and 
waved his handkerchief three times. 

This was the signal agreed upon between the minister 
and his daughter for her to join him if he thought it safe 
for her to make an appearance that Sunday in Bethel 
Chapel. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

LETTY ’S EEMOKSE. 

It was late on Friday night when Letty Fletcher reached 
her old home, feeling prostrated both mentally and phys- 
ically. 


Saints and sinners. 


211 


When Lydia opened the door of the parsonage to admit 
her master and his daughter, she kissed Letty and hade 
her welcome. 

“ Oh, Lydia exclaimed the unhappy girl, bursting 
into tears. 

“ Don^t cry, child. You are worn out after your long 
journey,’^ Lydia remarked, trying to greet her young mis- 
tress as if the latter had just returned from an ordinary 
yisit. In this the housekeeper showed great tact and much 
good feeling. The worthy woman’s heart was heavy when 
she saw the girl she loved so fondly, but by a powerful 
effort Lydia succeeded in controlliug herself. 

“ Come right into the study,” said she, throwing open 
the door of the room Letty remembered so well. The 
table was already laid, the candles lighted, and a nice sup- 
per was prepared for them. 

“ Sit down, child, sit down,” Lydia commanded, taking 
off Letty’s hat and cloak and pouring her out a cup of 
tea. 

Letty sighed; she could not partake of the tempting re- 
past that Lydia had prepared. The young girl managed 
to swallow a cup of tea, but she could eat nothing. 

Lydia, you had better take Letty upstairs; she is very 
much fatigued;” and Mr. Fletcher lighted a caudle, which 
he gave to Lydia, and kissed his daughter good-night. 

As soon as Letty entered her own room she saw a large 
bunch of roses Lydia had placed on her dressing-table. At 
this evidence of kindly home affection Letty groaned aloud 
ill her anguish. 

Come, come. Miss Letty, don’t take on so. Let me 
undress you and put you to bed, dear.” 

“ You are too kind to me, Lydia.” 

“ Too kind to you!” ejaculated Lydia. “ I ought to be 
kind to you. Was not your mother kind to me when I 
needed some one to look after me? If I were not kind to 
jou. Miss Letty, I ought to be whipped black and blue for 


212 SAINTS AND SINNERS, 

being a regular monster of ingratitude. Suppose you have 
done wrong, I am not going to make your life worse than 
it is by showing you that I consider myself one of the elect 
and you one of the greatest sinners on earth. I am not, 
for as sure as my name is Lydia Phillips, I love you too 
much to make you miserable; besides, 1 believe what the 
Bible says, ‘ Let him who is without sin cast the first 
stone.'’ I am not a Pharisee. There! I have spoken my 
mind, and let us drop the subject forever.'’^ So saying, 
Lydia assisted Letty to undress, saw her in bed, kissed her 
good-night, and abruptly left the room, fearing to break 
down before her young mistress, for she could no longer 
restrain her. tears. 

The housekeeper was very unhappy and miserable over 
Letty^s unfortunate position, but she was resolute enough 
not to let any one know the real state of her mind. 

“ 1 must help Mr. Fletcher and Miss Letty to bear up. 
It wonT do for me to make their trouble any greater than 
it is by harping on it all the time,^'’ thought the faithful 
woman, as she went down-stairs and told the minister, 
“ Miss Letty is in bed and comfortable for the night. 

“ Thank you, Lydia, for your kindness to my poor girl,^'’ 
said the minister, taking up his candle and retiring to his- 
room. 

The next morning found Letty more composed, but she 
trembled as she hastily dressed herself. She had an actual 
dread of meeting her father and Lydia, and shuddered at 
the thought of resuming her place among them again. 

The poor girl was literally overwhelmed. Her father 
was not a hard or stern man, but lenient, merciful, and 
considerate; he could make excuses and allowances; he was 
slow to condemn; but Letty felt that her position horrified 
him; that he could not recover from the awful impression 
it made on him. 

Mr. Fletcher could not realize that his beautiful daugh- 
ter, whom he had loved so tenderly, could act so im- 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


21-3 


prudently. He could not comprehend how she, Letty, his 
child, could have erred so terribly. That she was Captain 
FanshaweV victim he knew; but had not her own free and 
easy manner with the captain when she first met him lead 
to her ruin? This was the great question in the minister's 
mind. 

Letty had stood at the door of the study for many min- 
utes before she could summon up courage to enter, and 
when she did her pallor was death-like. 

Mr. Fletcher was shocked, and anxiously said to her: 

“ 1 am afraid you are ill, my dear." Then he em- 
braced her affectionately, and tried to make her feel he 
was glad to have her home again. 

‘‘ Daddy, I am not ill; but — oh! I feel so tired of my 
life. Just think, I am only twenty-one, and I may live a 
great many years more. How can 1 endure it?" 

“My child, you have tarnished an honest name, be- 
trayed my trust in your honor; for, Letty, Captain Fan- 
shawe would not have dared to act as he did if you had not 
consented to that Scotch marriage. "Why did you not re- 
turn home by the next train the moment you arrived in 
London? You should never have gone out of the station 
even." 

“ Because he told me there was no other train until 
morning. What could I do alone in London?" 

“ True. He deceived you in everything, my child," re- 
plied the minister, mournfully. 

“ That he did. Miss Letty," remarked Lydia, putting 
the dishes containing their simple breakfast on the table. 
“ Yes, miss, that man is a villain. Didn't his man tell 
Lot Burden that they were taking you back to Down- 
ham." 

“We took the London train by mistake, Lydia," ex- 
plained Letty. 

“No, Miss Letty, neither Captain Fanshawe nor his 
man made any mistake. 1 think they got into the Lon- 


214 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


don train on purpose to deceive you. They ought to be 
hung, for a greater pair of villains are not to be found this 
side of Newgate. If I were master 1 would have the law 
on them. I’d let them see if they could bring disgrace on 
an innocent girl and then go unpunished. Td make them 
suffer, I would 

“ That would not restore my daughter’s peace of mind. 
It would only drag her before the public, and every news- 
paper in England would print the scandal.”' 

“ Perhaps you are right, master,” said Lydia, shaking 
her head dubiously. 

I think I am, Lydia. 1 am anxious to avoid all scaii- 
dal. I want Letty to resume her old life as if nothing un- 
usual had happened.’" 

‘‘ Lot was here 3 ^esterday, and he says every one thinks 
Miss Letty has been visiting some old friends in London, 
sir.” 

“ If such is the general impression, we must not dare to 
contradict it,” said Mr. Fletcher. 

“No, master. I believe I would be tempted to say 
almost anything in such a case.” 

“ Don’t tell any unnecessary falsehoods, Lydia. \Ye 
vvill not contradict Letty’s reported visit, but do not make 
matters worse by committing more sin. We can not de- 
ceive the Lord, Lydia, and He abominates liars.” 

“ I believe in telling the truth, Mr. Fletcher; but I do 
not believe in letting the whole of Downham know your 
business,” Lydia curtly replied. 

“ Neither do 1, Lydia, for it is only right to be dis- 
creet. ” 

“ But, sir, it is mighty hard to bo so when one of -those 
old gossiping creatures gets hold of you. They can ask 
more questions than any two lawyers would think of ask- 
ing in a divorce case. Oh, I know them! Why, bless 
your heart, Mr. Fletcher, I met old Mrs. Woods yesterday. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


215 


and she asked me more questions than I could answer 
about Miss Letty/^ 

“ That is just the reason I dread going back to the old 
life. I can not bear to be cross-questioned. The people 
here will torture me to death. They will want to know 
the whys and wherefores of everything. Why did I leave 
the picnic-party? How did I get home? What sort of 
people I visited? Oh, daddy, daddy, I dread seeing the old 
faces Letty cried out as she buried her face in her hands 
and wept aloud. 

Lydia had left the room to attend to some domestic 
duties, and the minister and his daughter were left alone. 

‘‘ Letty,” said Mr. Fletcher, gravely, laying his hand on 
his daughter's bowed head. My child, be brave; you 
have sinned unconsciously, you have erred, but now you 
must repent. Let every act of your life be one of atone- 
ment. I can not make light of your error, my child — it is 
a terrible one; but I desire to say this to you — you must 
learn to be meek and humble; you must rouse yourself, 
Letty. We have to live our lives. There is no human 
creature living who has not done wrong, who has not yield- 
ed to temptation, who has not more or less gone astray. 
Now you must go back to the stern duty of life and you 
will fulfill it all the better for having resolved upon doing 
what is right, let the cost be what it may.” 

I will try my best to do what is right, daddy; but I 
don’t feel equal to facing the people.” 

“ Letty, you must humble your pride; you must learn 
to be a Christian at heart, to love your neighbors as your- 
self in spite of their faults. Ah, Letty, if you had not 
been so proud, my darling, you would not have been led 
into error so easily.” 

Her father spCke solemnly and sternly; every word 
seemed to fall like fire on Letty’s heart. She saw her sin 
stripped of sentiment; now she stood face to face with 
it for the first time, and for the first time she realized that 


216 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


by a cruel, base fraud she had been robbed of her place 
among virtuous women. 

Her idol was shattered. She could not forgive Eustace 
Fanshawe for his terrible deceptions. When her father 
had told her that he had never received any telegram from 
the captain, and that she could have returned to Down- 
ham by a midnight train her faith in the man she loved 
perished, and she could see that he had deliberately planned 
her ruin. He may have thought that she never would dis- 
cover the truth, that his wife would die, and he would 
make her his legal wife. Even so, Letty argued, ‘‘ he had 
no right to wrong me as he has. ” 

Letty felt she never could excuse Eustace Fanshawe. 
He had ruined her whole life, and she shuddered when she 
thought of the future. 

All day Saturday Letty remained at home, too weary to 
do anything but sit quietly in her father’s arm-chair. 
She tried to sleep, but it was of no use. How she dreaded 
the ordeal of the coming morrow! 

Sunday morning came only too soon for the minister 
and his daughter. Mr. Fletcher knew what a terrible trial 
it would be for her. Letty begged him, if possible, to see 
Lot Burden and ascertain if the truth were known before 
she left the parsonage. The minister promised to wave 
his handkerchief three times if he considered it safe for her 
to occupy her usual seat. 

Mr. Fletcher did not leave the house till a quarter to 
ten o’clock. He had lingered until the last moment, 
doing all he could to instill courage into his daughter’s 
heart. When delay was no longer permissible he crossed 
the lawn to Bethel Chapel, and on his way saw Lot Bur- 
den, and from his information, the minister, thinking 
Letty’s story still unknown, waved his handkerchief. 

His daughter was anxiously watching for the signal, and 
when it came she gave a cry of joy. 

“ Thank Heaven the truth is not known yet;” and she 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


217 

left the parsonage to join her father, feeling comparatively 
relieved that her secret was still safe. 

The minister looked anxiously at his daughter when she 
reached his side. He saw she was growing paler, and said, 
firmly: 

Courage, courage, child; for my sake make an effort 
to look and act like yourself. I have seen Lot, and he tells 
me no one has the least suspicion. 

“ Daddy, it seems to me that the very stones and trees 
know it. I met some of the Sunday-school children as I 
came up the path, and they appeared to avoid me.^^ 

“^'hy should the children avoid you? That was only 
your imagination. Come, be your old self, for here is Mrs. 
Parridge and her daughter,^ ^ said Mr. Fletcher, as a fine 
buxom-looking woman, dressed in very gaudy colors, ac- 
companied by a very pretty girl, came up the walk. 

“Good-morning, Mr. Fletcher. 

“Good-morning, Mrs. Parridge.^' 

* “ Good-morning, Miss Letty. You have got back at 
last. I hope you had a nice time,'’^ was the new-comer's 
greeting. 

“Yes, thank you," Letty managed to answer, blushing 
deeply. 

“ We all missed you very much; but I suppose we must 
get used to doing without you. You will be getting mar- 
ried some of these days," replied the good woman with a 
broad smile. 

“ 1 don't think Letty has any idea of marriage just yet, 
Mrs. Parridge," said the minister. 

“ Oh, nonsense, Mr. Fletcher. You are not going to 
keep a pretty girl like Miss Letty single many years more. 
She is the same age as my girl, and she is going to marry 
Henry Holt, who has a farm a few miles from West Lynn, 
this autumn," Mrs. Parridge proudly announced. 

Her daughter looked at her and stammered: 

“ Oh, mother, how you do talk!" 


318 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


“ You needn^t blush, Fanny, because I told Mr. Fletcher 
you are going to be married,'^ her mother laughingly an- 
swered. 

“ I hope Fanny has made a good choice, and that she 
will be happy/ ^ remarked Mr. Fletcher, gravely. 

Fanny, still blushing, stammered out an almost inaudi- 
ble “ Thank you, sir.^'’ 

How thankful we ought to be, Mr. Fletcher, that we 
have such good children; that our girls are not like Sarah 
Watkins. 

“ It won’t do for us to judge others too severely, Mrs. 
Parridge. Perhaps your daughter might not be the good 
girl she now is if she had the same temptations as Sarah, 
and no mother to warn her against them. We ought to 
be charitable, my friend.” 

“ So we ought, Mr. Fletcher. Come, Fanny,” said the 
matron as she walked into the chapel with an erect head 
and flushed face. She felt that the minister’s rebuke was 
rather uncalled for, and was provoked at his taking her to* 
task. 

My punishment is greater than I can bear!” cried 
Letty, as the tears came into her beautiful eyes. “ As she 
talked about that poor girl, so will they all talk about me 
if my story is ever known. ” 

“You must dry your eyes, Letty, and compose yourself. 
I am very late this morning, and if you appear so agitated 
you will make people suspicious. Come with me through 
the vestry.” 

The minister gave his daughter his arm and took her to 
the side door leading to the vestry just as the chimes rang 
out their last sweet peal, warning the tardy worshipers to 
hasten their steps or they would be late for chapel. 


SArNTS AND SINNERS. 


219 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE .MINISTER'S TEMPTATION. 

Samuel Hoggard was waiting in the vestry for Mr. 
Fletcher. He looked at his watch and saw it was twenty- 
five minutes past ten o'clock and the minister had not 
made his appearance yet. 

“ I wonder what has happened? Mr. Fletcher is not- 
often so late as this. Ah! here he comes at last/' the 
deacon soliloquized, as the clergyman entered escorting his 
daughter. 

“ Mr. Fletcher, I've been waiting for you for some time. 

1 want a word with you," said the deacon, impatientJy. 

‘‘ I am very late this morning, Mr. Hoggard, and I beg 
you will excuse me — " 

“No, sir, I will not— late or early you must hear what 1 
have to say. You sent a man on Saturday to my place to 
value my stock and fixtures. I refused to allow him to 
take an inventory, and ordered him off the premises. It is 
time you and I came to an understanding about this mat- 
ter." 

Mr. Fletcher looked at the deacon in surprise, but he 
replied, gently: 

“ I do not exactly understand you, Mr. Hoggard." 

“ You don't, eh? Well, I will make it plain to you, for 
you haven't an atom of business tact about you; if you 
had, you would have acted differently. I got David Crisp 
— a shrewd, honest man in my own line of business — a 
man who understands the exact market value of my stock, 
to make out an mventory, which you refused to accept. A 
year has nearly elapsed since my partner's death. His 
widow is impatient to settle her affairs. Well, to please 
you, I got Crisp to make out another inventory, and I told 
him to place the very highest market value on everything. 


220 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


You would not take Crisp^s second valuation any more 
than you would the first. 

“ Because, ]\fr. Hoggard, I believed that an entire stran- 
ger ought to place the valuation on Mrs. Bristow^s prop- 
erty. If, as you say, Mr. Crisp’s second valuation is an 
honest one, why should you object to having a second made 
by an uninterested party?” 

“It is unbusiness-like, sir. I have gone to the trouble 
of having Crisp make two [inventories, and you are not 
satisfied. 1 tell you plainly 1 will not allow you to send 
any one to my place to make another estimate. ” 

“As it is late, we will not discuss this subject any fur- 
ther just now; besides, Sunday is not the proper day to 
talk about our business matters. ” 

“ How dare you preach to me? You need some one to 
teach you how a Christian father should govern his fam- 
ily, ” said Samuel Hoggard, as his cold gray eyes gleamed 
with a dangerous light. 

“You shall not speak so to my father,” cried Letty, in- 
dignantly. 

“I was not addressing you, madame,” answered the 
deacon, looking scornfully at the young girl daring to re- 
sent the disrespect he had shown to her father. 

“Mr. Hoggard, you will please defer this conversation 
until after service. I am obliged to get ready now to go 
into the pulpit.” 

“ You will not enter that pulpit until you have explained 
certain matters to me. ” 

“ Mr. Hoggard, 1 will not have you speak so insultingly 
to my father,” reiterated Letty, her dark eyes flashing re- 
proachfully at the deacon. 

“ Madame, 1 must repeat 1 am not addressing my con- 
versation to you. You have disgraced this congregation 
by your conduct; you are not fit to associate with respect- 
able people,” was the deacon’s insulting reply. 

Letty stood as if turned to stono. Her face flushed 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


221 


hotly, and then it became ghastly in its pallor. She was 
trembling, faint, and almost unable to breathe. The hour 
she dreaded so much had come. Every moment since her 
return to Downham she waited for the blow to fall, and 
her suspense had been agonizng. She had felt some one 
would discover her secret, and now she was sure that 
Samuel Hoggard knew the truth. 

, Retire to my dressing-room, Letty,’^ said Mr. Fletch- 
er, leading his daughter to the door of a small room off the 
vestry. 

“ Now, sir, I insist upon your explaining your daugh- 
ter'^s mysterious absence from Downham,’^ demanded the 
deacon the moment he and the minster were alone. 

“ What do you know?^^ slowly asked Jacob Fletcher 
•wdth white, quivering lips. 

“ All. 1 employed a detective to hunt your daughter 
up. I knew you did not know where she was, and I made 
up my mind to find out for you. It was my duty to do so 
as the deacon of this chapel. My suspicious were correct, 
and Letty Fletcher shall not be permitted to associate with 
the young women of this congregation if I can prevent it,^"* 
said Samuel Hoggard. 

“ If you know the truth, sir, you will not betray her. 
You can not be hard upon her because she believed that 
she was Captain Fanshawe'^s legal wife,"" pleaded the min- 
ister. 

‘‘ If your daughter was legally married, where are the 
proofs — her marriage certificate?"" was the deacon"s taunt- 
ing answer. 

‘‘Oh, man! you can not be so hard upon her! I 
snatched her from ruin and despair. You will not drive 
her out from among us. Give her this one chance to live 
and repent of a fault that she was led into, I might say, 
unknowingly;"" and the minister"s voice trembled as he 
spoke. 

“ I don"t want to ruin your girl, Fletcher. Accept 


222 


SAINTS AND SINNEK8. 


Crisp^s valuation, and I will never let any one know the 
secret of her absence. I will help you in every way I can 
to hush the affair up. You know me — I can be a good 
friend and — a bitter enemy. I have reasons of my own for 
your setlling up the Bristow business according to my ideas 
— reasons that you wouldn’t understand even if 1 explained 
them to you. Now you ought to oblige me in this matter. 
I am perfectly willing to do all in my power for you. 
Come, is it a bargain? Will you accept Crisp’s valua- 
tion?” 

“How fiendish it is to tempt me thus! You are a 
father, and if you had a heart you would feel for me, Mr. 
H'oggard,” said the minister, in a husky tone of voice. 

“ See here, Jacob Fletcher, you are an old man; and 
remember it will be no easy task for you to get another 
parish, therefore you had better oblige me and accept 
Crisp’s valuation,” reiterated the deacon. 

“Oh, it is inhuman to tempt me to do a dishonorble 
act,” gasped out the' minister. He fell into a chair and 
put his hand to his throat; he appeared to be choking. 
He breathed hard and great drops of moisture were on his 
brow; his face was corpse-like. The struggle that was 
going on in Mr. Fletcher’s soul, even for a moment, moved 
his enemy to pity. 

“ It is your own fault, Fletcher; you are to blame. If 
you had not acted so unbusiness-like I never would have 
meddled in your affairs,” remarked the deacon. 

The minister did not answer him; he attempted no de- 
nial, but sat still under the tremendous blow that had 
fallen on him. 

“ Is it to be Crisp’s valuation?” demanded Samuel Hog- 
gart, impatiently. 

There was a pause. Then Mr. Fletcher arose from his 
chair; erect and pale he stood before his tempter. He 
folded his arms and looked his enemy squarely in the face, 
and his blue eyes were flashing defiantly. 


SAII^-TS AND SINNERS. 223 

“ I will give you just five miuutes more to decide. 1 
have you iu my power, and 1 shall tell all I know of you 
unless you accept my terms,’" the deacon threatened as he 
took out his watch and commenced to count the minutes. 

Both the minister and the deacon stood facing each 
other. ‘ The silence was unbroken save by the faint ticking 
of the watch, and the sad, sweet tones of the organ echoing 
from the chapel. The scene was dramatic. Outside was 
the waiting congregation wondering why the service had 
not begun. 

Lot Burden felt anxious, so he leaned over, and asked 
Lydia, who satin the pew in front of him: ‘‘ If anything 
had happened to Mr. Fletcher?” The faithful woman 
only shook her head. She did not know what to make of 
the unusual delay, and her soul was troubled with visions 
of impending trouble. 

Ralph Kingsmill was also in great distress. He was 
afraid something had happened to Mr. Fletcher which pre- 
vented him from conducting the service. Letty might 
have been taken suddenly ill, Ralph imagined. He tried 
to be calm and remain in his seat, though he was tempted 
to go to the vestry and see what had transpired. 

The organist was also impatient and commenced perform- 
ing a prelude — the overture of one of Mozart’s masses. 
Many turned around in their pews, and looked up at the 
gallery. Some thought the organist had become suddenly 
inspired, others that he had no business to give such music 
as that in their chapel. It was altogether too High Church 
in its style to suit them. 

“ The time is up. Give me your answer. For the last 
time I ask you to accept Crisp’s valuation?” demanded 
Deacon Hoggard. 

“No,” cried the minister, in a voice ringing out like the 
clear tones of a trumpet, while the arm he raised trembled 
with rage. “ Samuel Hoggard, do your worst. I will not 


224 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


help you to defraud your dead partner's widow and chil- 
dren. 

‘‘ Then I suppose I am at liberty to announce to the con- 
gregation you have resigned your position/^ sneered the 
deacon, while his lips curled scornfully. 

“You need not trouble yourself, Mr. Hoggard. I will 
tell the congregation,^'’ said Mr. Fletcher, quietly. 

“ And will you tell them why you are obliged to resign? 
Will you give them the infamous details of your daughter's 
famous London visit?’^ asked the deacon. 

At this moment the dressing-room door was flung open, 
and Letty appeared pale, indeed^ but there was a resolute 
expression on her beautiful face that no one had ever seen 
there before, which vanished away as she flung her arms 
around her father’s neck and sobbed out: “ This is my 
punishment.” 

“ It is your father’s fault. If he will accept my propo- 
sition, I am silent forever, if not, you must both take the 
consequences,” said the deacon. 

Letty conquered her emotion by a supreme effort of her 
will. Her eyes flashed with indignation as she cast a scorn- 
ful look on the hypocritical deacon. 

“ Mr. Hoggrd, my father will do what he considers to 
be his duty. I would rather starve than have him consent 
to defraud the widow and the orphans, ” Letty said, flrmly. 

“ My brave girl,” cried the minister, embracing his . 
daughter, “ I am strong now.” 

“ Perhaps when you are starving you will not feel quite 
so strong,” hissed Hoggard. 

“ Coward!” exclaimed Letty, with a sudden flame of 
passion. 

“lam not surprised that such a father should have such 
a daughter,” came the contemptuous, taunting answer of 
Samuel Hoggard. 

Jacob Fletcher nor his daughter made no reply to this 
unmanly speech of their enemy, but the minister turned 


SAINTS AND SINNEES. 


225 


and quietly walked to the door leading to the chapel. He 
opened it, and stood on the threshold, too agitated to raise 
his voice, but he ^soon controlled himself and said: “ My 
friends, there will be no service to-day. Please step into 
the vestry, I wish to speak to you.'’^ 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

MR. Fletcher's resignation. 

Jacob Fletcher, after he had asked the members of the 
congregation to step into the vestry, walked back, and stood 
in the center of the room beside his daughter. 

The minister's clear-cut features were like chiseled mar- 
ble he was so dreadfully pale; pain and anguish were 
plainly to be seen in his gentle eyes, though his bearing 
appeared calm enough to a careless observer. He stood 
erect, waiting for as many of his congregation as could 
enter the room. 

When the vestry was crowded he looked at his daughter, 
and took one of her icy-cold hands. “ The horrible, 
shameful truth may strike her dead while she listens," 
thought the agonized father. 

Letty was standing with her figure drawn up to its full- 
est height, her simple summer dress falling in graceful 
folds around her queenly form, her head was bowed in 
unutterable shame. One hand lay in her father's, and the 
other was pressed against her wildly beating heart. She 
stood awaiting her doom. 

Deacon Hoggaid stood near a table with wrathful eyes, 
compressed lips, and knotted forehead. He felt furious 
because he could not compel the minister to accept his 
terms. 

He was about to gratify his revenge, but he knew he 
could not hoodwink the minister who distrusted him and 

saw through the villainy of his schemes. He would be 
8 


22(j SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 

obliged to do Mrs. Bristow justice, but he determined to 
make Jacob Fletcher feel his vengeance. 

“ My friends, commenced the minister, in a trembling 
vice, “ I am obliged to announce to you that 1 am unable 
to stand up in yonder pulpit and preach to you. For 
thirty years I have been your pastor, and I have tried to 
faithfully perform my duties. I have baptized the younger 
members of the congiegation, and married many of them. 
I have buried your parents. Your interests have always 
been mine. My friends, it is with heartfelt sorrow that I 
am compelled to say to you my service among you must 
cease. It would be impossible for me to stand in the pul- 
pit and preach to you, knowing, as I do, I have erred per- 
haps in my own duty as a father, though if I have done so 
it was unconsciously. 

“ My daughter, as you are all aware, has been absent from 
here for some time. She missed the boat by accident on 
the evening of our Sunday-school picnic. Letty met a 
friend who rowed her up to King^s Lynn railway station, 
whence she intended to return home by train. 

The man whom she trusted betrayed her confidence, 
and put her in the London train instead of the one that 
stops at Downham. She was alone, trapped in a great 
city, and became the victim of an illegal marriage. I dis- 
covered where she was, and prevailed upon her to return 
home, hoping that her secret was unknown, but I made a 
mistake.^’ The minister ceased speaking. 

There was a short and painful pause, which was inter- 
rupted by Deacon Hoggard. 

“ As the father of a family and a deacon of this chapel, I 
humbly trust that my principles are good. It was clearly 
my duty to inquire into Miss Fletcher’s mysterious absence. 
I did so, and I am sorry to say that her conduct in London 
has been such that she must be condemned by every honest 
man and woman in this congregation.” 

“I will not hear another word against Miss Fletcher,” 


SAINTS AND SINNEES. 


227 


thundered out Ralph Kiugsmill, as he stepped forward, his 
face aflame with ill-suppressed indignation. 

“ Under the circumstances/^ resumed Mr. Fletcher, in 
a low, even voice, “ I am forced to resign my position. 

‘‘ Mr. Fletcher, we accept your resignation. I speak 
with the approval of the entire congregation,'’^ said Samuel 
Hoggard. 

Another interval of painful silence, a silence so intense, 
so painful that the few kindly hearts listening grew sick 
with suspense and dread. 

Not a sound issued from the white, locked lips of Letty 
Fletcher as she stood motionless and silent with all the eyes 
of the congregation riveted on her face. The minister's 
daughter forgot all her friends — all her foes — she only 
thought of her father, and stood with her beautiful dark 
eyes gazing steadfastly into his face. 

“ I protest against Mr. Fletcher^s resignation. Mr. 
Hoggard, surely you can not mean that you wish our old 
friend to resign his charge over us. We have lived a life- 
time with him, and no other clergyman will ever All Mr. 
Fletcher ^s place acceptably,'’^ Ralph Kingsmill again spoke 
out. 

‘‘It would only give scandal if it were known that we 
had a minister whose daughter bore such a disreputable 
character, replied the deacon. 

“Not another word, deacon, exclaimed the young 
farmer. “lam afraid I shall forget myself if you persist 
in insulting Miss Fletcher, and Ralph with his head 
proudly erect cast a withering look of contempt on Samuel 
Hoggard. The flery wrath that consumed Ralph was so 
deep and deadly that he was almost unable to articulate. 
“ My friends,^' he continued, as he looked around on the 
faces of his acquaintances, “I and my family are well 
known to you, better known even than Deacon Hoggard’s. 
We have lived and died among you for three generations. 
You all know that 1 love and honor Miss Fletcher as I 


228 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


never can love and honor another woman. I know all the 
circumstances of her Scotch marriage, and 1 give yon my 
word slie has been blameless. I feel tliat she is a victim. 
She never eloped deliberately. 1 say and repeat/^ raising 
his voice to its highest pitch, “ I do not believe one single 
word that has been uttered against Miss Fletcher.'’^ 

“ Do you suppose 1 would dare to make a charge against 
Miss Fletcher if it 'Could not be substantiated was the 
deacon^s angry demand. 

“You would, and have made slanderous accusations 
against her. Her father told the simple truth, and you 
dared to tell him that he should resign on account of his 
daughter’s conduct. Samuel Hoggard, you are a vile, 
dastardly hypocrite. ” 

“ How dare you have the insolence to address such words 
to me?” asked Samuel Hoggard, his face almost purple 
with rage. 

“ Because I have the moral courage to defend a woman’s 
honor that you have basely calumniated. I do not doubt 
her. I will swear to her truth and purity, swear until I 
die,” and Ralph as he spoke turned to Letty. 

She looked at him with a vague, dazed expression as of 
one who had been tortured past all bearing. Ralph’s heart 
ached as he saw her. He forgot everything but her, where 
he was, and all the surroundings; his only thought was of 
Letty. Taking one of her cold hands, he pleaded in a voice 
of infinite pity and pathos as his very soul seemed to shine 
out from his eyes. 

“ Be my wife, Letty. I am ready to marry you at once. 
I shall only be too happy and proud to wed you. Should 
any man have aught to say against this lady when she bears 
my name, let him beware; I shall call him to account for 
it.” 

Letty was completely bewildered at Ralph’s noble offer. 
She was too astounded to speak at first, but after a mo- 
ment’s hesitation she said: “ Oh, no, Ralph. I can not 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


229 


accept such a sacrifice. I must live my own life; 1 must 
learn to suffer and bear my cross. 

Her voice sunk avv^ay into a wail that was pitiful and 
heart-rending in its agony and despair. 

“ My kind friends, Letty is right. Your marriage with 
her would not alter circumstances. The disgrace, however 
unmerited it is, would remain,-'^ said the minister, with 
tears in his eyes. 

Lot Burden, who stood next to Lydia Phillips in the 
vestry — he always got as close as possible to her everywhere 
— whispered: “ Ralph Kingsmill is a noble-hearted man. '" 

‘‘ That he is. He stands up for the minister and Miss 
Letty like an honest man,"" replied Lydia as she wiped the 
tears from her eyes. 

Mr. Hoggard looked around the vestry and saw his friend 
and brother-deacon Prabble, who crossed over to him. 

“ What are we to do about service this afternoon?"" asked 
the junior deacon. 

“We had better announce to the congregation that there 
will be no service until next Sunday. We will have a 
meeting appointed for to-morrow evening,"" replied the 
elder man. 

“ Yes, we will have to choose a minister at it. I am 
afraid it ‘will be rather a difficult matter to find a man who 
will be contented with Mr. Fletcher"s present salary."" 

“ Oh, we "11 raise the salary, of course. We must find a 
man who will preach sermons that will fill Bethel Chapel 
as it has not been for years. We must have a live man. 
Fletcher is worn out, and has been so for years, and it is a 
very good thing he has resigned."" As he finished speaking 
Samuel Hoggard looked at his watch, and found it was 
long past eleven o’clock. He then called out: “My 
friends, we will have no public worship in Bethel Chapel 
until further notice. To-morrow night there will be a 
meeting in the vestry, to which all of the gentlemen of the 
congregation are invited."" Then the two deacons arm in 


230 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


arm walked out of the vestry, followed by a portion of the 
congregation, who crowded around them and asked ques- 
tions about Mr. Fletcher and his daughter. The minister 
shook hands with many of his old parishioners, who loved 
him for his real and benign Christianity. There were as 
many clustered around him as had left the vestry. 

‘‘ Good friends, my labors among you have ceased, said 
Mr. Fletcher. A strange huskiness came into his voice, and 
stopped all further' utterance by a low farewell. 

Father and daughter were alone once more. 

“ Oh, father, I have ruined you. What will become of 
us?^^ Letty fell sobbing at his feet. 

“ He who feeds the ravens will provide for us. Arise, 
my child, the worst is over. Come, let us go home. It 
will be the last Sunday in the dear old house, said her 
father as calmly as he could. 

When Mr. Fletcher entered his study he was surprised to 
find Ralph Kingsmill there waiting for him.. 

Mr. Fletcher, I could not leave Downham without 
making one more appeal to you. Come with me to Aus- 
tralia. Let me marry Letty, and take her there as my 
wife, where her story is not known. ' ’ 

‘‘ !No, Ralph, it can not be. Your noble offer I appre- 
ciate more than I can tell you, but Letty could not con- 
scientiously become your wife.'’' 

“ Why not, sir?" asked Ralph. 

‘ ‘ Because she considers herself bound to Captain Fan- 
shawe. It is true their marriage was illegal, he having a 
legal wife living, but my daughter ought not to marry an- 
other man while he lives. It would not be right. True, 
she has done wrong unconsciously, still she must suffei for 
the error unless it is the will of Providence in His wisdom 
to clear her reputation and right her wrongs. " 

I suppose I must confess you are right, sir; but I am 
more grieved than I can tell you that I am leaving you in 
such trouble and distress. " 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


231 


“I know it, lad/^ replied Mr. Fletcher. “I — I am 
sorry to part with you, for I need your sympathy in this 
trial, but it may be all for the best, Ralph. We must be 
resigned to bear our burdens. They are always sent to us 
for some wise purpose. 

“ If I can serve you in any way, will you write and let 
me know, sir?^'’ 

“ I will, lad. I shall write to you as often as possible, 
replied the minister. 

“ Pray do so, and I will look eagerly for your letters. 1 
will write to you on my arrival at Melbourne. Tell Letty 
good-bye for me.'’^ 

“ Farewell, Ralph. May Heaven bless and preserve you 
from all evil.^'’ Mr. Fletcher was almost overcome with 
grief as he shook hands with his young friend, and he 
watched his departing form with the tears filling his eyes. 
Mr. Fletcher thought he would never see Ralph again in 
this world. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

LETTY FLETCHER^S TRIAL. 

Letty, when she returned home from Bethel Chapel, 
threw herself into Lydians arms, and sobbed out her an- 
guish on that faithful creature^s breast. 

“ Lydia, Lydia, my dear, good father is ruined through 
me,'’^ she moaned. 

“ Now, Miss Letty, you must stop crying; you will make 
yourself ill, and then what will we do? That wicked Dea- 
con Hoggard wanted to get rid of Mr. Fletcher, and he has 
done so at last in the only possible way he could, child. 
Oh, wouldn't I like to see that man punished," and Lydia 
stamped her foot indignantly at the recollection of the scene 
in the chapel. She was completely out of patience with Mr. 
Fletcher's congregation. 




SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


Lydians vindictive appearance had one good effect. It 
somewhat roused Letty. 

“I believe you are right, Lydia. Mr. Hoggard wanted 
my father to accept the estimate Mi. Crisp had put on 
Mrs. Bristow^s share of the deacon^s business. 

“ Of course he did, for wouldifft Crisp give him the 
widow^s share for next to nothing? David Crisp would 
do anything in the world to please the deacon. 

“ Father refused to rob Mrs. Bristow, and then the dea- 
con swore he would compel him to resign. 

“The hypocrite! I knew there was some other cause 
for Mr. Hoggard ’s action against your father. He has de- 
ceived the Downham folks, but he didiiT deceive me. 1 
never had any use for that man; Lot Burden has told me 
enough about him. Mark my words, Miss Letty, he will 
not go unpunished for the way he has acted. 

“ Perhaps, Lydia. But what are we going to do?^^ 

“ The Lord will provide for us, child. He will take 
care of your father. Come, Miss Letty, try to be cheerful, 
and brighten up. "VVe have trouble enough without your 
falling ill on our hands, said the practical woman, as she 
went about getting the dinner ready. 

Perhaps Samuel Hoggard^s hard heart would have been 
touched if he had heard Mr. Fletcher^s devout and sincere 
prayer for his enemies on that Sunday evening. 

The deacon was a bitter enemy, and determined to 
liumiliate the minister in every possible way. The next 
morning Mr. Fletcher received a note from him, asking 
for the keys of Bethel Parsonage that week, as he, the dea- 
con, wished to repair the house before the new minister 
would come in possession. Mr. Fletcher showed this note 
to his housekeeper and asked her advice. 

“ Master, I would like to be a man for a few hours. 
Lydian’s eyes flashed as she read the deacoiPs rude note. 

Mr. Fletcher smiled sadly. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


^33 


Well, Lydia, what would you do if you belonged to 
the masculine gender?^ ^ 

“ Do? I^d thrash that Sam Hoggard within an inch of 
his life, that is what I would do, sir. He is a mean, re- 
vengeful heathen to write such a note to you!^^ 

‘‘It is just as well you are a woman, Lydia, or I am 
afraid the deacon would stand the chance of being crip- 
pled, replied Mr. Fletcher. 

“ That he would, sir, and I earnestly hope he will get 
his desserts before he dies.^^ 

Mr. Fletcher looked at her reproachfully. 

“ Lydia, we must love even our enemies. You remem- 
ber what Christ said when He died for us: ‘ Father, for- 
give them, for they know not what they do.’ He set us 
an example which we must foJlow if we expect to be Chris- 
tians. In our daily lives we must practice what we be- 
lieve. We are sorely tried,' Lydia, but remember that it is 
only through sufiering the human heart can be purified.” 

“ I know what you say is true, Mr. Fletcher; but I tell 
you the congregation is beyond all my patience. You have 
been treated shamefully after devoting the best part of 
your life to them. ” 

“ JBut, Lydia, we must be patient. I am going to quote 
to you a bit of French philosophy. ‘ Patience is bitter, 
but its fruit is sweet.’ ” 

“lam feeling how bitter it is just now, master,” re- 
plied Lydia. 

“ I suppose we all are, Lydia,” admitted Mr. Fletcher, 
with a heavy sigh. “ My poor girl will need to exert all 
her courage and patience. 1 am almost sorry I insisted on 
her returning to Downham, but there was no other alter- 
native. She is young, beautiful, and inexperienced, and I 
did not dare to leave her exposed to the temptations of a 
great city.” 

“ You did right to bring her home, master. It was use- 
less to do otherwise,” answered Lydia. 


234 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


“ I did eveiy thing for the best, but what a sore trial to 
my poor child it has been; but patience is the surest anti- 
dote against calumny. Time, sooner or later, will reveal 
the truth.^' 

“ I hope so, sir; but now donT you think I had better 
go and see if I can find a cottage to let somewhere? If we 
have to move, we must do so as soon as possible. 

“ Yes, Lydia; the sooner we leave the better, said Mr. 
Fletcher. 

Lydia said nothing just then, but she was very much 
discouraged by the fact that there were only three pounds 
in the house to meet all expenses. 

That evening Mr. Fletcher was surprised to receive Mr. 
Herbert’s card, which was brought to him by Lydia. His 
guest awaited him in the study. 

“ Mr. Fletcher, I returned home this morning from 
London, and was surprised to learn you had resigned your 
position as pastor of Bethel Chapel. ” 

“ The resignation was forced on me, sir,” answered Mr. 
Fletcher, gravely. 

‘‘Both my wife and I are grieved that Captain Fan- 
shawe has caused you all this sorrow. Unfortunately he 
was my guest when he met your daughter. We never 
dreamed he intended to elope with her. ” 

“ Nor did I, Mr. Herbert. He called on Letty a few 
days before he took my child away from me, and I ordered 
him out of the house. I felt that a man of his station had 
no right to be attentive to my daughter. ” 

” Captain Fanshawe is not a man I would have taken to 
be a scoundrel,” said Mr. Herbert. 

“ He has acted like one to me and mine,” was Mr. 
Fletcher’s stern reply. 

“ He has both surprised and grieved me, I must confess. 
Eustace and 1 have been friends since we were lads; and 
this is the first time in his life 1 have known him to act in 
such a manner as to disgrace a gentleman and an officer. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 235 

He was very unfortunate in his first marriage, and I be- 
lieve he grew reckless. I saw him a few hours before he 
sailed, and he implored me to seek you, and tell you not 
to blame your daughter, as -he alone was the guilty 
party. 

“ That I believe, Mr. Herbert; but Letty is the sufferer. 
She is a woman; the world will forgive Captain Fanshawe’s 
folly, but it will never believe that my daughter was his 
victim, answered the minister. 

“Yes,^" said his visitor; “that is always the judgment 
of the world. 

“ A woman who once has her reputation tainted by 
scandal is lost. God in His goodness and mercy will par- 
don her, but inhuman man never forgets. Her own sex 
are her bitterest foes. Alas! the rarest virtue in this world 
is charity I 

“ Your words are only too true, Mr. Fletcher; few of us 
have real charity. My wife has really fretted herself ill 
over Captain Fanshawe^s conduct. She sees what a dread- 
ful position he has placed Miss Fletcher in."’ 

“ I appreciate Mrs. Herbert's sympathy, and thank her 
from my heart for it,’’ said Mr. Fletcher, as an almost 
pleased expression stole over his countenance. 

Mr. Herbert went on: 

“ Captain Fanshawe told me to tell you that he has left 
orders with his lawyer to inform him when his wife dies. 
Eustace will then come to England at once and make your 
daughter his wife. He loves her dearly, and his remorse 
at the awful ruin he has made of her life is intense.'’ 

“ Do you think that Captain Fanshawe is sincere in his 
protestations?” asked Mr. Fletcher. 

“ Yes, sir, I do. If his wife dies, I am morally certain 
he will come back and remarry your child. Are you aware 
that he has left instructions with his lawyer to send Miss 
Fletcher five hundred pounds per annum. He desires you 
will allow her to accept this income, for he says it is but 


336 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


just and right that he should provide for her.'’^ Mr. Her- 
bert spoke in a constrained tone of voice, as if the task he 
had undertaken was distasteful to him. 

“ Mr. Herbert, I will never allow Letty to accept one 
farthing of Captain Fanshawe^s money. I would feel that 
she was receiving the wages of sin. No, sir, under no cir- 
cumstances will I allow Letty to accept a pecuniary favor 
from the man who has brought such sorrow to my house. 

“ I was afraid that would be your decision, sir, and I 
told Eustace so, but he begged so hard for me to ask you 
that I could not refuse to do as he requested. Next week 
I will leave Downham for a long sojourn in London, where 
I am engaged on several law cases that will require my 
constant presence."’^ 

“ It pains me to hear you are going away. I shall miss 
you and your wife very much, for I have so ' few real 
friends left in the world, and at my time of life new ones 
are so rarely made. The minister and his visitor con- 
versed for a few minutes together, and then Mr. Fletcher 
saw his guest to the door and bade him good-bye. 

Lydia was quite late in returning to the parsonage, for 
she had walked from one end of Downham to the other. 
She had looked at every cottage that was to be let in the 
place. 

Well, Lydia, have you found us another home?'^ asked 
the minister, as he opened the door for the housekeeper. 

‘‘ I have looked at every dwelling in the place that was 
to let, Mr. Fletcher, and I must say I never knew how 
folks lived before. I thought most of our folks were clean, 
but they are not — more’s the pity! The rent of the 
greater part of the cottages was too high. I could only 
find two that may suit us — I don’t mean the cottages, but 
the rents.” 

“ Whereabouts are these cottages, Lydia?” 

“ One is near the old brick-yard on the road to King’s 
Lynn, and the other is about half a mile from here. We 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


237 


might put up with the one that is near the brick-yard, Mr. 
Fletcher, for a few months, until you could get a call to 
some other parish. 

‘‘ What rent do they ask for it?^^ questioned Mr. 
Fletcher. 

“Two pound ten a year, sir,^^ answered Lydia. 

“ Well, we had better take it, Lydia, for it may be a long 
time before 1 get another parish.'’^ 

“ I hope things will turn out all right, sir,^' said Lydia, 
as she went into the kitchen. 

Letty received a letter from Captain Fanshawe’s lawyer 
by the next morning’s post. It read as follows: 

“ Dear Madame, — I am instructed by my client. Cap- 
tain Eustace Fanshawe, to ask your acceptance of a fixed 
income of five hundred pounds per annum. I will send 
you a check every quarter for a hundred and twenty-five 
pounds. I am also desired to tell you by my client that 
he will return to England and make you his legal wife, if 
ever he has it in his power to do so; and that he deeply re- 
grets having wronged you. All arrangements for your 
future have been made with me. You will therefore com- 
municate with me at your earliest convenience. 

“ Yours truly, 

“ John Wakefield.” 

“How could he think that I would accept his money? 
I would starve first,” thought Letty, as the indignant 
blood dyed her cheeks. 

She walked over to where her father was sitting, and 
laid the lawyer’s letter in his hands. 

“ Bead it, daddy; it is only right that you should do 
so,” said Letty, as she turned away her head to hide the 
tears that sprung to her eyes. 

“My child,” said Mr. Fletcher, after he had read the 
letter, “ Mr. Herbert has been here; he came because 
Captain Fanshawe begged him to do so. He asked my 


238 SAINTS AND SINNERS. 

permission for you to accept this income from Captain 
Fanshawe. I rejected the offer as soon as it was made.^^ 

“ You did right, daddy; I could not take his money. I 
should feel like a degraded woman if I touched one far- 
thing of it. I know we are very poor now, and it is I who 
have brought this sorrow and trouble on you, but Heaven 
has spared me to live for others. I must find a way to 
support myself — a way to help you and Lydia. Put your 
trust in Divine Providence, child, and your burden will be 
lightened. 

“ You’ll answer Mr. Wakefield’s letter, daddy?” 

* “I will, Letty. Cheer up, my child; I know it is a 
hard trial to leave the old house, Letty, bpt we must be 
brave,” said her father. 

“ It is harder for me than even you can conceive, daddy. 
I feel I am the cause of all your disgrace, and I know my 
name is on every tongue, and I am the subject of conver- 
sation in every household. When I think that it is by my 
imprudence, by my sin, that all this shame and sorrow has 
befallen you, daddy, I feel as if I were going mad! Can 
you ever forgive me for it?” asked Letty, bursting into a 
wild storm of tears. 

“ I do forgive you, my darling, as I hope God has for- 
given you,” said the minister, embracing his daughter. 

“ Since you pardon me, daddy, the world may do as it 
will, may punish me as it will;” and the faint shadow of a 
smile passed over her wan features. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

IN THE DARK HOUR. 

Four months had elapsed since Mr. Fletcher had re- 
signed his position as pastor of Bethel Chapel, and as yet 
had not succeeded in obtaining another parish, though he 
was ill hopes he would be called to preside over the West 
Lynn Chapel. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


239 


Lydia was becoming disheartened, for nearly all the 
funds she had were exhausted! The family would not 
have been able to exist if it had not been for the generosity 
of Mrs. Herbert. That kind-hearted lady had insisted 
upon Lydia accepting thirty pounds for the use of the 
family before she left Downham. The housekeeper was 
almost afraid to accept Mrs. Herbert's gift, for she knew 
how sensitive Mr. Fletcher was about such matters; but 
Lydia felt that their need was great, therefore she was 
thankful for Mrs. Herbert's timely assistance. 

The former pastor of the West Lynn Congregational 
Chapel, the Reverend Mr. Duncan, had before his death 
been a great friend of Mr. Fletcher, and had recommended 
the latter should be his successor. In consideration of the 
late minister’s wish, the deacons of that chapel had asked 
Mr. Fletcher to preach their Christmas sermon, with the 
understanding if the congregation approved of their 
choice, and Mr. Fletcher’s credentials were satisfactory, he 
would be invited to become their pastor. 

Christmas dawned bright and cold, but Jacob Fletcher 
was thankful that at last his idleness was to end, and he 
started to walk to West Lynn with a light heart. 

1 trust, Lydia, I shall be able to bring you good news 
when I return.” 

“ I hope so, sir,” sighed Lydia. 

Deacon Scott will give me a decided answer after serv- 
ice. He is going to call on the deacons of Bethel Chapel 
to ascertain if my resignation was given on good grounds. ” 

‘‘ Then I hope the deacons of Bethel Chapel will tell the 
truth, sir,” answered Lydia, sharply. 

“ I am not aware of having done anything wrong dur- 
ing the thirty years I was pastor there, and I know of no 
just cause why they should refuse to speak well of me and 
my acts.” 

‘‘ No, sir, there is no just cause, but Mr. Hoggard hates 


240 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


you because you made him do justice to poor Mrs. Bris- 
tow. ’ ’ 

“ I only did my duty, Lydia, and I feel satisfied with the 
result. Mrs. Bristow received a much larger amount than 
she would had I accepted Crispy’s valuation.'’^ 

“ Oh, yes! she was delighted about it, sir, the day she 
called here and bade me good-bye,^-’ said Lydia. 

“ I received a letter from her yesterday, and Doctor 
Palmer says he believes he can cure little Alice. The 
child has improved wonderfully since she has been his 
patient. 

“ Well, I am glad to hear she is better, and I hope she 
will get entirely well, for Mrs. Bristow has had trouble 
enough since she lost her husband.-’^ 

“ That is so, and I am more than thankful I was able to 
manage her business to her entire satisfaction, Lydia, 
said the minister. 

“ So 1 am, sir; but I am afraid Mr. Hoggard will make 
you suffer for the course you pursued with him.^^ 

“ I saw no other way of doing my duty, Lydia, replied 
Mr. Fletcher, looking at his watch to see the time. “ 1 
must go now, for I have a long walk before me. When did 
Letty say she would be home?’’ 

“ She said she would try and get leave to spend the day 
with us, sir.” 

‘‘ I hope she will. It will be a sad Christmas with us 
all, Lydia; but I am thankful it is no worse,” remarked 
the minister, as he took his departure for West Lynn. 

After the first month of her return to Downham, Letty 
Fletcher had endeavored to resign herself to the will of 
Providence, but at times her misery was more than she 
could endure. Alas! trouble must come to all of us at 
some period in our lives. When will poor mortals learn 
the lesson, women especially, that their idols are brittle 
and at any moment ready to break. How often must they 
be taught that this idol they worship is made of clay? Oh, 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 241 

blind fools that wo are! it is only through adversity we are 
taught to look beyond this earth for consolation. There is 
none save One we can put our trust in. 

Perhaps there is no sorrow like disappointed love^ no 
sorrow like a deceived or broken faith in one who has been 
given all our confidence. Sd it was with Letty Fletcher. 
It broke her down entirely. 

It was the first time her undisciplined nature was 
brought face to face with a real tangible trouble. She 
could not hate Eustace Fanshawe, though he had acted so 
treacherously toward her. She still clung to the hope she 
would be his legal wife. The lawyer^s letter made her feel 
that he was not such an utter scoundrel ; he had thought 
of her welfare. 

Day after day she listened for the postman’s knock, hop- 
ing to receive a line from her absent lover announcing he was 
free and able to right her wrongs. Letty knew from what 
the captain had told her that his wife Clara would live but a 
few weeks. Letty did not wish the unfortunate woman to 
die in order to take her place. 

The unhappy girl even felt great sorrow and pity for 
^ Mrs. Fanshawe, who had been but a wife in name for 
years, but still more did the minister’s daughter pity the 
man who had won her heart, as it were, by fraud. How 
often did she implore her Heavenly Father to take pity on 
all of them, and unravel the tangled skeins of their lives! 

Time ran on, and three months elapsed, and Letty had 
not received any tidings from Eustace Fanshawe. Then 
she realized he had deserted her; she had gone out of his 
life, his love had been but a passing whim, he had deceived 
her, and she would never look upon his face again. 

She made no special outcry or lamentation. Already she 
began to understand the hard, sad, unpalatable truth that 
suffering is our destiny, and she took such as came to her 
share with the silence that belonged to one of graver years. 

Her father quickly saw Letty had grown older in the 


24:2 SAINTS AND SINNERS. 

past few months than most English girls do in as many 
years. All her youthfulness had gone, and she was no 
longer as variable as an April day, changing from grave to 
gay, and from sunshine to storm in a moment. 

She had become very reserved and shy, even with her fa- 
ther, and tried to hide her pain from all, even herself; as 
yet she could not bear the gentlest probing of her wound. 
Her heart bled inwardly. She suffered with a weary, con- 
scious suffering which knows its pain for all time. 
Twenty years hence she would care as little to face it as 
now, and the memory of it would be as bitter as ever. 
Her idol had been of the poorest of clay, and she now 
knew it. The arm she had for a brief time leaned upon 
so fondly, had given away, had deserted her. 

I would rather he had killed me than deceived me so 
basely,’^ was her constant thought. 

There is nothing more galling to a proud-spirited woman 
than to feel she has been cast aside as a faded flower. 
Letty would have forgiven Eustace Fanshawe for every- 
thing if he had only written to her. With the strange 
contradiction of a woman, though he had ruined her life, 
she resented his silence. 

One morning she surprised her father and Lydia by say- 
ing: 

‘‘ I am going to see Doctor Western; I want him to get 
me an appointment as nurse in the hospital. Work 1 must 
have, and that is the only kind I am capable of doing. 

Neither of her hearers approved of her determination, 
but they did not oppose it, thinking she never would ob- 
tain the employment she desired. A few days after Letty 
had announced her prospect, she rang the bell of Dr. West- 
erne’s house in fear and trembling, though she had known 
the old physician all her life. Both he and his son. Dr. 
Frank Western, had much sympathy for Mr. Fletcher. 

When Letty was shown into the elder doctor^s office and 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


'243 


she asked him if he could ^et her into the hospital as a 
nurse, he looked at her considerably surprised. 

Then he suddenly remembered the scandal he had heard 
regarding her which had been the topic of conversation in 
Downham for weeks after the Fletchers had left Bethel 
Parsonage. 

“ My child/^ at length said the old doctor, kindly, “ you 
would find the life of a hospital nurse very hard.^’ 

“ Doctor Western, you have heard my story, said 
Letty, as a deep crimson flush dyed her still beautiful 
face. 

The physician gravely bowed his head. 

“ You know, then, I can obtain no other sort of employ- 
ment; every door is closed against me. For three months 
my father has had nothing to do; we, of course, are in em- 
barrassed circpmstances, and work I must have. Could 
you not take me on trial, doctor?^ ^ asked Letty, as she 
raised her dark eyes and looked at Dr. Western implor- 
ingly. 

She sat anxiously awaiting the physician^s decision. 

“ Well, I could, but I am afraid you will never be able 
to stand the sights and bear the fatigue of nursing, Miss 
Fletcher. ^ ’ 

“ Only try me, doctor, pleaded Letty. 

“ I will, my child. I am going to the hospital this 
morning to perform an operation, and I will take you with 
me. If you can stand my test of your strength and fitness 
for the vocation you have chosen, I shall see that you are 
engaged in place of the nurse who left the hospital last 
week.'’^ 

“ Thank you. Doctor Western. I hope I will be able to 
give you satisfaction. 

“ That we will soon see. Here is my carriage. I will 
take you with me, and your courage will be put to the test 
at once,^" answered the doctor, as he put on his overcoat. 

After a rapid drive of nearly an hour's duration Dr. 


244 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


Western drew rein before the hospital door, and helped Letty 
to alight. She was pale, her heart beat violently, but she 
walked into the doctor^s private room with a firm step. 
There she took off her street garments and waited for the 
physician^s orders. 

Dr. Western rang his bell, and the matron appeared. 

‘‘ Good-morning, Mrs. Shaw. I have brought you a 
young friend of mine who desires to become a nurse. We 
will give her a trial. Please bring her a cap and apron. 
Has Doctor Goddard arrived 

“ Yes, doctor, he is waiting for you/^ replied the 
matron as she left the room. 

Mrs. Shaw returned in a few minutes with a white cap 
and apron which she handed to Letty. 

‘‘ This young lady is Miss Fletcher, Mrs. Shaw. If she 
passes the ordeal to which I am about to subject her, I 
want you to take an interest in her,'^ remarked Dr. West- 
ern, as he introduced Letty. 

“ I will, doctor,^^ was the matroiPs brief reply. 

“ Come, Miss Fletcher, muster up all your courage, and 
follow me. I am going to see how much pluck you pos- 
sess. I know you are kind, intelligent, and obliging. 1 
am only dubious about your endurance, said the physi- 
cian. 

The beautiful girl could not repress a shudder as she fol- 
lowed the doctor through the female ward of the hospital 
on her way to the operating-room. 

Narrow pauper cots furnished with straw mattresses and 
covered with coarse checkered cotton quilts were ranged 
down each side of the ward, with just space enough be- 
tween them to allow a sort of footpath in which the nurses 
could pass from one bed to another. 

Nearly every one of the cots was occupied. Letty saw 
young faces so pale and mournful that her heart ached as 
she gazed on them. 

Other faces she saw were coarse and shameless or hag- 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


245 


garcl with long suffering. Some of the occupants of the 
beds raised their heads from their straw pillows and turned 
their eyes full upon the minister's daughter as she passed 
them. She looked curiously at the variety of features be- 
fore her, and wondered how it was that human beings so 
different in their natures should be crowded together in 
one room, even by that terrible leveler of all ranks — pov- 
erty. 

Dr. Western stopped at one cot, where another physi- 
cian was awaiting him. They went a few paces further 
down the ward, and after a brief consultation returned to 
the cot. The occupant was a woman with a tumor in her 
breast, and it was she on whom the operation was to be 
performed. The poor creature shrieked and implored 
them not to touch her — wait for another day. Her request, 
however, was refused. Then she asked if she could not be 
chloroformed, but Dr. Western said no — he had reasons of 
his own. The poor patient could not become reconciled to 
her fate, and began to struggle against being removed to 
the operating-room. 

It took six people to carry her by the head, the arms, 
and the feet. She was strong and desperate, and it was 
impossible to keep her quiet. 

The physicians and Letty followed the patient. 

Dr. Western said to Dr. Goddard: 

“Let Miss Fletcher take your place; she is intelligent 
enough to hand me the instruments as 1 want them. You 
must hold her head. 

The younger physician obeyed him unquestioningly. 

Letty stood trembling inwardly in every limb, but out- 
wardly calm. The color mounted to her brow as she stood 
by Dr. Western’s side holding the various instruments. 

When the unhappy patient felt the cold steel cut through 
her flesh she screamed out despairingly: 

“ My God! you are tearing out my heart !”- 

A cold chill crept over Letty, and she almost swooned. 


246 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


She struggled to retain her consciousness and not slide to 
the floor, but she gave the physician a knife instead of the 
forceps he had asked for. He frowned at her, and said 
very severely: 

‘‘You have made a mistake. What I want is in your 
left hand.^^ 

The patient had fainted. 

“ Now give me the bandages. There, that is right; put 
down the instruments and unroll the linen as 1 bind it 
around the subject. Very well done. Now take that 
basin and carry it into my private room, as 1 wish to ex- 
amine the tumor. I believe the patient will do now. ” 

Before the patient regained her consciousness the doc- 
tors had her placed comfortably in her bed. She opened 
her eyes and looked up at Letty, who happened to be 
bending over her, and said very faintly: 

“ DonT leave me.^^ 

“ If I have permission, I will return and sit beside you in 
a few minutes,^^ replied Letty, softly and kindly. 

She left the ward and placed the basin with its contents 
on Dr. Western's table. 

“Bravo, Letty! You have stood the test valiantly. I 
shall have you engaged at once. You will have to return 
to the ward and remain with that woman to-day, and per- 
haps through the night. Can you do so?^^ 

“Yes, doctor, if you will let my father and Lydia know 
I am here. 

“ I will stop at your house on my way home,^"’ replied 
Dr. Western. 

Letty received further instructions from the doctor, and 
then returned to the woman^s bedside, gave her the medi- 
cine which Dr. Western had prescribed, and held her hand 
until she fell asleep. 

The beautiful girl now understood, as she sat by the 
poor sufferer’s cot, that in alleviating the miseries and 
pains of humanity she would find peace, and her work 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


247 


would prove a blessing, inasmuch as she would have no 
opportunity to brood over her own misfortunes. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

RALPH KINGSMILL^S GUEST. 

Ralph Kingsmill arrived at Melbourne and found the 
people of that city intensely excited over the marvelous 
stories of the New Rush. Ears burned, eyes glistened, 
and fingers tingled at the news. Men separated from the 
spot by miles of land, made hasty arrangements to go to 
New South Wales. 

Ralph spent a month in Melbourne, which city aston- 
ished him greatly, for it had not the primitive appearance 
he had expected to see in a comparatively new cit3^ He 
was surprised to find such fine hotels and noble-looking 
stores filled with the triumphs of the workshops of the old 
world. He felt the ‘‘march of progress^’ was set to 
quicker time in the busy thoroughfares of Melbourne than 
in the cities of the older world. 

He saw the typical Australian had more energy and 
nerve, and moved with more celerity than the typical En- 
glishman. Men who had lived in Australia for some years 
lost their easy-going manner of taking life; in fact there 
was something in the very air that made Ralph feel he 
must look alive and move along if he did not wish to be 
pushed into a corner and lost sight of. 

During the young farmer^s sojourn in Melbourne he ob- 
tained all the information he could about the gold mines 
and sheep raising, and then he went to Victoria. 

He was only in the latter colony about two weeks when 
he concluded to join his fortunes with a young man who 
was going over the border into New South Wales. Ralph 
and his mate soon reached the New Rush, where they 
found thousands of diggers, and already there was a long 
street filled with calico stores newly erected, to supply the 


248 


SAmTS AND SINNERS. 


wants of the mixed community. As the new arrivals 
poured in they had to traverse this street, which com- 
menced at the end of the main road. It presented a very 
animated appearance, and was always thronged. Flags of 
all nations and flags of no nations were waving over the 
shops. Many of these rejoiced in high-sounding titles. 
There were the Bee Hive, Her Majesty’s, Prince of Wales’s, 
the Melbourne Store, and the post-office, which was a 
place where old newspapers were sold at exorbitant prices, 
and where you had to pay half a crown for two sheets of 
note-paper, two envelopes and a pen. This store was also 
a sort of post-office, where one might deposit letters on the 
payment of one shilling each. The proprietor also sent a 
weekly mail to Victoria, from which he reaped a rich har- 
vest. 

Forcing their way through the bustling crowd, Ralph 
Kingsmill and his mate, Dick McMillian, soon reached the 
end of the straggling street of stores and came upon the 
diggings. These were situated on a great plain dotted 
over with strong, sunburned men straining at windlasses. 
Around some of the shafts were small knots of diggers 
eagerly waiting for the “ prospect.” 

Dick McMillian had worked in the mines before, and was 
used to the ways of a mining camp, therefore he went on 
until he came to an unoccupied spot. A claim was then 
soon measured, marked out with pegs, and the orthodox 
custom of sticking the pick in the center was duly per- 
formed. Then Dick McMillian went in search of a spot to 
put up their cabin, and before evening their house was 
built, and Ralph was sitting before the door spioking his 
pipe while Dick commenced to build a new mud chimney. 

So days and weeks passed, and daily the gold field grew 
until it extended over many miles, and as if by magic a 
new city had sprung up. Streets were laid out, roads 
made, newspapers and banks established, and at last a 
hotel and theater were built. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


249 


Ealph Kingsmill, who had been a farmer all his life, did 
Qot take kindly to his present mode of existence. He saw 
that a number of the unsuccessful miners turned their atten- 
tion to other pursuits, and after giving his new occupation 
a six months’ trial, he determined to attempt stock raising. 

Dick McMillian was a young Scotchman with all the 
proverbial national characteristics, especially that of an eye 
to the main chance. He favored Ealph’s project, for like 
most of the Australian gold diggers when they had an op- 
portunity, he was always glad to invest in real estate. 
Dick, being a careful Scotchman, had some funds, and 
Ealph had brought some capital with him, so they invested 
in the Bathurst district, which abounds in valleys and up- 
lands, where the crops never fail. Its climate is genial 
and the scenery as romantic as the best parts of Switzer- 
land. Here Ealph settled down. He called his farm 
Bethel Eanch, after the chapel he had attended in Down- 
ham. 

He had been an occupant of Bethel Eanch about a year 
and a half, and so far was well pleased with his experi- 
ment. His crops were abundant, and he had numerous 
flocks of sheep. He had prospered beyond his most san- 
guine expectations. 

Dick McMillian proved to be a trustworthy friend, and 
the two men lived in complete harmony together. They 
had an old Scotch woman who kept house fof them and 
attended to their comforts. Ealph would have felt con- 
tented and comparatively happy if he could have obtained 
some tidings of the dear old friends he had left behind him 
in England. 

He had not heard from Mr. Fletcher for more than a 
year, and he had written to Lot Burden to know what had 
become of the minister and his daughter. 

To this letter Ealph was eagerly expecting an answer, 
and he closely scanned the papers to see the announcement 
of the arrival of the English mail steamer. 


250 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


One evening his mate, Dick, on his return from the 
town, brought the iong-expected letter from Lot Burden. 

The young farmer hastily tore it open and carefully read 
its contents. 

“ Dear Friend, — I was very much pleased to hear you 
are doing so well with your sheep ranch; and 1 am glad 
you have gone in for stock raising, whicli 1 should fancy is 
better than mining. 

“ I am sorry I can not write you any better news of our 
friends than I did a year ago. 

“ The Reverend Mr. Duncan of the West Lynn Congre- 
gational Chapel died just before Christmas, and he request- 
ed that Mr. Fletcher should take his place. Our old friend 
would have got it, for the congregation all liked him, but 
Samuel Hoggard told Deacon Scott, when the latter. called 
on him to see about Mr. Fletcher, that " Miss Fletcher did 
not bear the kind of character a minister’s daughter should, 
and that her father had left Bethel Chapel on her account. ’ 
You know Deacon Hoggard hates the minister because Mr. 
Fletcher made him give Mrs. Bristow what her share of 
the business was really worth. 

‘‘You will be surprised to hear that Miss Fletcher has 
become a hospital nurse. Doctor Western got her the 
place. It is a hard life for the poor girl. She is looking 
pale and ill. 

“ Lydia takes in sewing, and the two women manage to 
keep the wolf from the door. Poor faithful Lydia! She 
will not leave the minister, though 1 have asked her to be 
Mrs. Burden three times since they left Bethel Parsonage. 

“ I know you will be sorry to hear Mrs. Herbert died in 
London about a month ago. She was a sweet lady, and a 
true friend to Mr. Fletcher. 

“ Annie Hoggard was married iast Tuesday to Doctor 
Frank Western without the deacon’s consent. They were 
married privately at W est Lynn. The young doctor bought 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


251 


Mrs. Bristow's place, and he has had it put in splendid 
order. The old deacon swears he will disinherit Annie 
for marrying the doctor. I believe he wanted her to marry 
a Liverpool chap who is very wealthy. 

“ Now I have written you all the news I know about 
Lownham folks. They are just a"s queer as ever, and 
about the same as when you were here. Will you ever re- 
turn to the old village and pay us a visit? I should like to 
shake hands with you once more, old man. I hope you are 
well and prosperous. 

“ Your sincere friend, 

“Lot Burden." 

“ Poor Letty!" sighed Ralph. “ To think of her be- 
coming a hospital nurse. It is no wonder that she would 
look pale and ill. 1 was sure they were suffering, or my 
old friend would have written to me," said the young man 
to himself. 

fle sat before the lire thinking of the beautiful dark- 
eyed girl he loved so fondly in dear old England, and he 
sighed as his memory brought a picture to his mind of 
Letty when she was a happy, laughing school-girl full of 
fun and mischief; then he mentally saw a vision of her as 
she had stood beside her father in the vestry of Bethel 
Chapel in the hour of her humiliation. 

Ralph's sad reverie was interrupted by the entrance of 
his partner with a stranger. 

“ David's horse has lost a shoe, and I have asked him to 
stay with us to-night, mate. " 

“ All right, Dick. Your friend is welcome," answered 
Ralph. 

“ Dick would insist on my putting up here to-night, 
sir, because he wants to talk over old times," said the 
stranger. 

“ Of course I do. I did not know David Laing was out 
here until 1 met him this evening in the post-office. He'§ 


252 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


a Gretna Green man, and once upon a time he was known 
as a rather queer character, said Dick, addressing himself 
to Ralph, who smiled at the peculiar description he had 
giv^en of his friend. 

The stranger, however, did not seem to mind it; on the 
contrary, he assumed an important air as he shook his 
head emphatically, and said: 

That I was, lad. Many a couple I spliced in my 
time.^^ 

Ralph Kingsmill looked interested. 

“ Do you mean to say that you actually married peo- 
ple 

That is exactly what I mean, sir. I have joined many 
a couple, replied the old Scotchman. 

“ Are such marriages legal questioned Ralph, instant- 
ly thinking of Letty Fletcher’s Scotch marriage. 

‘‘ Well,” said the old man, slowly, “ people consider 
them so on our side of the Border. You see, sir, Scotch 
law is a wee bit different to yours. If a man stands up 
before a witness and declares he takes a woman to be his 
wife, she is his wife.” 

‘ ‘ It is a strange way to marry people, David. I should 
not care to be joined to any girl I loved by a Gretna Green 
marriage,” remarked Dick McMillian, thoughtfully. 

“I don’t suppose you would, lad; but it never was the 
likes of you that wanted my services.” 

“ No, David, you never were troubled by poor folks.” 

“ I wouldn’t have made much if I had been, Dick; but 
the business was no good of late years. They passed an 
Act of Parliament that put a stop to our trade. I didn’t 
have a job to do in many a day until the very best paying 
pair I ever had, I might say, came to me the night before 
I left old Scotland, and a mighty pretty lass was the 
bride. She had a pair of dark eyes in her head that would 
make any man wish to run away with her. The bride- 
groom was so muffled up I could not make out his face. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


253 


but for all that he was a liberal gentleman and paid me 
well for making a happy man of him. He had a servant 
too who looked quite the gentleman. I wonder what be- 
came of the pair?^^ said Laing half to himself. 

‘‘ How long ago was it since you married that couple?^’ 
asked Kalph, as he stood up and looked into the old 
Scotchman's face. 

‘‘ It must be nigh' upon two years now. I married them 
in June, for that was the month I went to London and 
took passage for Australia. 

“ Tell me their names, man,'^ cried the young farmer, 
as he caught hold of Laing ’s arm. 

‘ ‘ I can not remember them, sir. 

The old man, somewhat surprised, looked at Ealjih’s 
flushed face. 

He turned and walked around the room nervously, then 
he again questioned Laing: 

‘‘ Do you think you would recognize the bidders face if 
you were to see it again he asked. 

“Yes, that I would, for it was a face one does not see 
every day,^"* was the old man’s decisive reply. 

Kalph made no comment, but walked over to a bureau 
standing in the corner and took out a photographic album. 

He opened it, put it before the stranger, and said very- 
rapidly: 

“ Please look over these pictures and see if you can 
recognize that last bride you married in Gretna Green 
among them,” asked Ealph, as he brought the light nearer 
to old Davifl. 

Ealph’ s partner stared at him in utter amazement; he 
was too bewildered to speak, and wondered what on earth 
it was all about. 

The old Scotchman felt about the same as Dick McMil- 
lian did, but said nothing, feeling sure it would all come 
out.’ 

The flrst two pages of the album contained the pictures 


254 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


of Ealph’s family^ and at these David glanced carelessly. 
He turned the leaves over to the third page. 

‘‘ By Saint Andrew!’^ he ejaculated, “that is the very 
same face I saw yonder in bonnie old Scotland 

“ But could you swear it was the samQ?^^ slowly asked 
Ealph. 

“ Yes, sir, that I could. Wait a moment — her first, 
name was Letty — 1 have forgotten the oth^r,'’^ answered' 
the old Scotchman. 

“Thank Heaven you came here to-night — that 1 met 
you! I never doubted her story, but others did sneer at 
my poor girBs innocence. 

“ I hope no harm came to the bonnie lass through me„ 
sir.'’’ 

It was now Laing’s turn to wait anxiously for an answer 
to the question. 

“Yes, man, you ruined a life when you married your 
last couple,” groaned Ealph, sorrowfully, as he sat down 
and briefly related Letty ’s story to his friend and their 
guest, who listened to him in pained surprise. 


CHAPTEE XXXHI. 

ON BOARD “the QUEEN.” 

It was a dark, dismal night — a night that made the 
passengers on board “ The Queen ” feel exceedingly un- 
comfortable, notwithstanding the steamer was fitted up 
with every convenience for their accommodation. In the 
cabin sat a dozen men and as many women grumbling dis- 
contentedly because of the miserable atmospheric damp- 
ness which penetrated to all corners of the cabin. 

Those en route from Melbourne to London were growl- 
ing at the slow progress the steamer was making, for they 
were all anxious to reach London as soon as possible. 

Perhaps Ealph Kingsmill was one of the most impatient, 
lie imagined that something must have happened to Mr. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


255 


Fletcher or Letty. Soon after he had received Lot Biir- 
den^s letter he determined to return to England for a brief 
period. He left Dick McMillian in charge of Bethel 
Ranch, and started for Melbourne, where he took passage 
on ‘‘ The Queen, as she was the first steamer advertised to 
sail for England. 

When they arrived at Alexandria all the passengers as- 
sembled on deck to see the new arrivals come on board, 
and a few of the most venturesome went on shore, but the 
cautious majority remained on ‘‘ The Queen,^^ as she only 
stopped at Alexandria for a few hours. 

Ralph risked going ashore. He wanted a change, and 
even a few hours’ walk in the streets of Alexandria would 
relieve his ennui. By doing, so he missed seeing the new 
passengers until that evening at dinner. 

Two days after “ The Queen ” had touched at Alexan- 
dria she encountered bad weather again, and the steamer 
plowed its way through a dense fog. This time there was 
little said among the passengers, for the bad weather had 
rendered them low-spirited. The ceaseless splashing of the 
huge paddle-wheels and the dismal shrieking of the fog- 
whistle were the only sounds to be heard. 

Ralph accepted his discomforts more philosophically than 
his fellow-passengers. He left the saloon and strolled on 
deck to look at the night. The deck was dimly lighted, 
and the contrast between it and the glaring lights of the 
cabin he had just left made the darkness bewildering to 
him. To Ralph’s unaccustomed eyes the water and fog 
were like ink. Not a star was visible, and he was about to 
return to the cabin when a man laid his hand upon 
Ralph’s arm and said: 

“ My master wishes to see you, sir.” 

Ralph, thus addressed, could not very well see his com- 
panion, and his judgment was at a loss to tell who he 
might be. 


256 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


‘‘ I have only just left the cabin, and I can see nothing 
in this sudden darkness. 

“ I understand, sir; but you would not recognize me 
even if you could see my face. I followed you up here 
from the cabin. The steward pointed you out to me. I 
fear we are not traveling very fast,^^ said the man, in an 
unsteady tone of voice. 

“ No,'’ answered Ralph, “ the fog has detained us, and 
we are going very slowly indeed." 

“ Great heavens! he can't reach England in time!" 
cried the stranger. 

Ralph felt he had unconsciously given the man unwel- 
come news. 

“ If to-morrow is fair we may be able to make up for 
some of our lost time," he ventured to suggest. “ This is 
considered a fast steamer when the elements are not against 
her. " 

“ Thank you kindly for the information, sir; but will 
you please step this way. My master is very ill — dying, I 
am afraid, and he wishes to see you," the man said as they 
both groped their way down the stairs that led to the saloon, 
the door of whic.h Ralph's companion opened for him. 

As the lights flashed on the person who had addressed 
him on the deck, Ralph could not recollect seeing the feat- 
ures before. He followed the stranger until they came to 
Jhe door of the largest state-room on the steamer. Ralph's 
guide again held the door open for him, and he entered the 
apartment, totally unprepared for the surprise that awaited 
him. 

In the lower berth lay a man propped up with pillows. 
His face was ghastly with the shadow of approaching dis- 
solution, and on his brow were great beads of perspiration- 
A remnant of the old light was lingering in the fast-glazing 
.eyes, and they kindled at the sight of Ralph Kingsmill. 

“ Do you recognize me?" asked the dying man, faintly. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


257 


Ralph looked closely at him and then suddenly ex- 
claimed: 

“ Captain Fanshawe!^^ 

“ Are you not surprised to see me in this condition?^^ 
the dying man went on. 

“ I am,” briefly responded Ralph, as he thought of their 
last meeting at the Argyle House. 

The young man’s face grew crimson, and for a moment 
he felt a deadly hatred and abhorrence of the officer. But 
soon a better feeling prevailed within him. He knew it 
was wrong to indulge in vindictive thoughts when his 
enemy stood as it were on the brink of eternity. 

“ I was carried on board at Alexandria yesterday. I 
caught a glimpse of you through the open door of my 
state-room. 1 inquired of the doctor if there was any one 
aboard of your name. He told me I was correct in my 
surmise. To-night I sent Leeson to summon you, because 
I feel my hours on earth are numbered. I want you to 
aid me in doing an act of justice — to right the wronged,” 
gasped the dying officer, breathing with much difficulty. 

Leeson hastily moistened his master’s lips with some 
brandy and rearranged the pillows around him. The valet 
waited on his master with the tenderness of a woman. He 
was greatly attached to the captain, who had always treat- 
ed Leeson with considerate kindness. 

Ralph sat by the invalid’s side in silence. After a few 
minutes the captain recommenced: 

When I left England I did so reluctantly, but my 
regiment had received marching orders, and ! was obliged 
to go with my men. I dared not resign at such a moment, 
as I would have been branded as a poltroon. My wife had 
received serious injury in a railroad accident, and her phy- 
sicians thought she could not possibly live more than a few 
months. I left word with my lawyer to telegraph to me as 
soon as she died, as I was resolved to return to England 
and make Letty Fletcher my wife. ‘ Man proposes and God 

9 


^58 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


disposes/ A year elapsed, ajid I had no news of Clara^s 
death. I received a wound in my left lung in a skirmish 
we had with a roving band of rebels I had been sent to 
subdue. For months I was very ill; at last I became well 
enough to sit up for a few hours each day. Not long after 
Leeson brought me two letters. One from my lawyer, in- 
closing one from my brother-in-law. Jack Raddles, who 
wrote me on his death-bed. In the letter he confessed he had 
deceived my lawyer, that my wife had been dead over a 
year, but that in order to the draw the income I allowed to 
Clara he had kept silence on the subject. As he was in 
Edinburgh and my lawyer resided in London, his deception 
was never discovered. Finding I could never recover, I de- 
termined to return at once to England, and make Letty 
my wife before I died. I yearned for a glimpse of her 
sweet face, for I loved her. When I die to-night, my 
friend, Letty will be my widow before Heaven, for 1 de- 
ceived her. She believed she was really my wife when we 
were married at Gretna Green. 

“ I know she did. I met the old Scotchman who mar- 
ried you in Australia last month, interrupted Ralph. 

“ The ways of Providence are strange. I am glad you 
saw this man, for you can materially aid me in proving 
that I alone committed a crime when I persuaded Letty to 
consent to our Scotch marriage. Leeson 

“Yes, sir, answered the devoted valet, bending over 
his master. What can I do for you, sir?’^ 

“ Take the package of papers out of my trunk you put 
in there at Alexandria before we came on board. 

Leeson drew out the trunk, unlocked it, and took out 
a parcel tied with red tape, which he handed to his master. 

“You will find here a paper duly sworn to before the 
British consul at Alexandria, and witnessed by my man. In 
it I confess to having married Letty Fletcher according to 
Scotch law at Gretna Green. 1 affirm that she believed 
herself to be my lawful spouse, and left me when she dis- 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


259 


covered I had another wife living. You will also find a 
copy of my will in the package. Fanshawe Manor is en- 
tailed, and reverts to my cousin Hugh Fanshawe, therefore 
I have no legal claim on the estate, but my private fortune, 
amounting to thirty thousand pounds, I have willed to 
Letty Fletcher and her heirs. 

“lam afraid that Letty will not accept it,^^ said Ralph, 
kindly. 

He did not wish to offend the dying officer. 

“ She will be generous enough to do so when she reads 
the letter 1 have written to her. I will be in my grave 
then; and Letty is too noble-minded to refuse granting my 
prayer;’^ and the captain lay back exhausted among the 
pillows. 

Leeson wiped away the heavy moisture from his brow 
and again moistened his lips. 

“ The letter 1 have alluded to you will find in the par- 
cel. I wish I could see Letty again before I die. I loved 
her, yet I ruined her life. 

Leeson looked anxiously at the captain, and said to him: 

“ You are talking too much, captain. 

“ Perhaps I am, Leeson, but I shall feel easier when I 
have told this gentleman what my wishes are. ’’ 

“ You have talked quite a long time, and it has exhaust- 
ed your strength. I had better leave you now, so you can 
obtain some rest, and I will come in again later on,^^ said 
Ralph. 

“No, Kingsmill. ITl feel easier in my mind when I 
have made known to you all my desires. Will you forgive 
me? 1 know my sin against you is almost beyond pardon. 

Ralph answered slowly, as he clasped the cold hand of 
Eustace Fanshawe in his own warm palm and pressed it 
cordially: 

“ I forgive you. Captain Fanshawe, as I hope to be for- 
given. 

“ Thanks; you have robbed death of one of its greatest 


260 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


paugs. If you can win your old playfellow’s heart, you 
may make her your wife without the slightest doubt of her 
purity. She is without blemish. ” 

know that, captain; I never doubtqd her,” was 
Ralph’s earnest reply. 

“ Never do so, for she is as pure as an angel. Give her 
my love, and tell her I packed all her effects when she left 
me, and Leeson sent the trunk to Fanshawe Manor the day 
we left London. She will find all the jewels I bought her 
in it. Ask her to wear them sometimes. I have written 
to Cousin Hugh to send her the last portrait I had taken. 
1 should like her to remember me kindly after I am gone. 
Tell her to take my fortune, for it is hers by right. If I 
only could live to reach England I would marry her. 
Letty must accept it; she will use it well, and in her dear 
hands it will prove a blessing. ” 

After this effort the captain lay back speechless. 

“ I will come in and see you early in the morning; but 
if you want me during the night I will come to you. Try 
and rest,” and Ralph again pressed the hand of the dying 
man in token of reconciliation, and left the room. 

He felt he must be alone with his own thoughts, so he 
hastily put on an extra coat, and returned to the dark 
deck, where he lighted a cigar and leaned against the 
steamer’s railing. 

A long retrospect of the events of the last two years 
passed through his mind. Ralph had sworn to wreak 
vengeance on Eustace I'anshawe if the latter ever came 
across his path in life again, but owing to the inscrutable 
ways of Providence he had found his deadly enemy weak 
and ill unto death. How could he refuse a dying man’s 
prayer for mercy? He remained on deck till he heard 
eight bells ringing, and then went back to the cabin. On 
the way to his own state-room he knocked very gently at 
the captain’s door. 

Leeson opened the door softly. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


261 


How is Captain Fanshawe?"" 

“ He is asleep, sir/^ replied the valet. 

“ Should you require any assistance during the night call 
me. I will be in thirty-three. 

Thank you, sir,^^ said Leeson, shutting the door very 
carefully. 

Ralph retired immediately, and slept soundly until five 
bells struck, then he was awakened by a hurried knock at 
his state-room door. At once he sprung out of his berth, 
opened the door, and found, as he expected, Leeson. 

“ Please come to Captain Fanshawe, sir. He is going 
fast.^'’ The valek’s voice was husky. 

“ I will be with you in a moment, replied Ralph, 
hastily putting on his clothes. 

When he entered the captain^’s state-room he saw the 
great change in his appearance. Taking the captain's cold 
hand he bent very low over him, and asked, slowly and 
distinctly: “ Do you know me?" 

Yes. Tell Letty — ask — her — to for — give — me." 

“ I will do as you desire in every respect, captain," an- 
swered the young farmer. 

‘^Leeson, old fellow, good-bye." 

“ Good-bye, captain, good-bye," sobbed out Leeson, 
taking his dying master's other hand. 

Death's gray shadow stole slowly over the captain's wan 
features, and its clammy moisture was upon his brow as 
the remains of the strong life within him battled with the 
grim Destroyer. He flung out his hands, suddenly raised 
himself to a sitting posture, then gave one long gasp. 

Letty!" he cried, as he fell back on the pillows. 

There was a sound in his throat like the muffled rattle 
of chaijis, then he stiffened. One strong, convulsive shiver 
through all his limbs, and he lay before them — dead! 


362 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

MR. FLETCHER RETURNS GOOD FOR EVIL. 

It was two years since Mr. Fletcher had resigned his 
position as pastor of Bethel Chapel, and despite all his 
efforts he had not been able to secure another pulpit. 

His daughter was now known as Xurse Fletcher. She 
had retained her place in the hospital until typhus fever 
broke out in the village, and then she bravely went from 
house to house among the stricken, tending and nursing 
them like a good Samaritan. 

Florence Hoggard took the fever, and was nursed by her 
mother until the latter fell a victim to her maternal devo- 
tion. Young Dr. Western had no hopes of saving either 
his mother or sister-in-law. His wife had an infant son, 
who was exceedingly delicate, and required Annie^s un- 
divided attention, so her husband had forbidden her to go 
to her mother's or sister's bedside, for he knew that she 
would be doomed to share their fate. 

The doctor found it was impossible to obtain a nurse for 
the two sick women, and he was in a quandary, from which 
he was relieved by Letty Fletcher, who volunteered to serve 
the daughter and wife of the man who had blighted her 
father's prospects. She nursed both Mrs. Hoggard and 
Florence with untiring devotion, but in vain. They died 
within a few days of each other. 

The night Letty returned home from Samuel Hoggard 's 
house she fainted. Lydia went for Dr. Western, who re- 
turned to the cottage with her. Letty's condition alarmed 
him. He said to her father: “ Your daughter has fallen a 
victim to her zeal. She has the fever, but 1 will do all I 
can to save her." 

Letty battled with the insidious foe for nearly six weeks, 
her life trembling in the balance. The housekeeper 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


263 


tended her faithfully, and was rewarded by seeing her dearly 
loved patient slowly but surely becoming convalescent. 

One evening Mr. Fletcher, who had been out on a visit 
,of mercy to the bedside of a dying man, came in, and 
looked anxiously at Lydia as she stole softly from his 
daughter’s bedside. 

“ How is she this evening, Lydia?” 

“ Asleep, master; you can not go in, sir,” replied Lydia, 
standing before the door she had just closed. 

. will not disturb her, Lydia. I only want to look at 
the child. ” 

“ Well, come then with me, sir,” said Lydia, as she 
opened the door. Jacob Fletcher leaned over his daughter, 
looked at her with tears in his eyes, and then withdrew, 
quietly followed by Lydia. 

‘‘She looks so peaceful, so beautiful, so angelic in her 
sleep, Lydia.” 

“ She does, master, because it is the sleep of an angel.” 

‘ ‘ Thank God she has been spared to become the noble 
woman that she is,” said Mr. Fletcher. 

“ Well, if ever there was an angel upon this earth it is 
Miss Letty,” declared Lydia. 

“ Do you wish to go out for anything, Lydia?” 

“ Yes, sir. Doctor Western told me to call for some 
medicine for our dear patient.” 

“ I will remain here until you come back. I have a 
sermon to write, as I am going to preach next Sunday in 
Grace Chapel for Doctor Warren, who is ill. Jt is only 
five shillings, Lydia, but even that small sum is needed 
now.” 

Lydia sighed as she tied on her bonnet, and hastily went 
out of the front door, for she alone knew how near the 
wolf was to their door. In these dark days. Dr. Western 
and his wife were the only friends the minister had. That 
kind-hearted i)hysician, aided by his wife and Lydia, man- 
aged to supply Letty with medicine and nourishment. 


564 


SAIKTS AKB SINKEHS. 


The minister sat down to his task after Lydia had de- 
parted, but he felt weak for the want of food; he had not 
tasted a mouthful since that moruing at seven o^clock. 
He opened the closet, and found half a loaf of bread, which 
he put on the table, saying to himself, softly: “Half a 
loaf is better than none, though I would like something 
else to eat. For shame, Jacob. Be a man. What is better 
than good white bread washed down by a draught of pure 
spring water? I will go and* get a pitcherful, take my 
supper in content, and write my sermon. 

So saying, Mr. Fletcher took the pitcher out of the closet, 
and went outside to draw some fresh water, feeling he 
should be thankful for even a mouthful of bread. While 
he was at the well a stranger hurriedly raised the latch of 
the cottage door, and rushed in nervously, shutting it after 
him. 

The man was evidently hungry, for he seized the bread 
on the table, and began eating it ravenously. As he was 
thus occupied, Mr. Fletcher came in with his pitcher of 
water in his hand. He started back in astonishment when 
he saw the stranger at the table devouring his frugal sup- 
per. The new-comer eat like a famished wolf; his clothes 
were ragged, and he had an unkempt appearance. Around 
his head was bound in a red silk handkerchief, making his 
pale face and blood-shot gray eyes look more conspicuous. 

Mr. Fletcher stood for a moment gazing intently at this 
uninvited guest, then he exclaimed, as he recognized him: 
“ Samuel Hoggard!’^ 

“ Oh, take pity on me! DonT turn me out! See, I am 
starving! I liavenT tasted food for more than two days!^’ 

“ You are welcome to my loaf, such as it is, deacon. It 
is all I have to offer you,’^ answered the minister, mildl}". 

Samuel Hoggard had never imagined that the day would 
come when the man he had wronged so cruelly would heap 
coals of fire on his head. The deacon had speculated wildly 
during the last two years, being ambitious to double his 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 265 

fortune. As he was the president of the Downham Bank 
he managed to borrow money from it, giving worthless 
notes for the amounts he drew. This was only the begin- 
ning of the end. The last speculation which he tried would 
redeem his losses, so he thought and hoped, but he again 
lost. 

One morning the shutters of the Downham Penny Sav- 
ings-Bank were closed, and a piece of paper pasted on the 
door announcing that the bank had suspended for a month, 
and after that would resume payment as usual. So great 
was the confidence reposed in Deacon Hoggard that the 
greater part of the depositors accepted this statement with- 
out any further examination into the bank’s business. But 
with some of the creditors it was not so reassuring. They 
were rather dubious of ever receiving their money, they 
had seen many such statements as hopeful end in a dividend 
of sixpence to the pound. 

Great vvas the marvel how Samuel Hoggard had managed 
to keep his bad financial condition unsuspected for so long 
a time, for the losses had not come upon him at once. 
The month had nearly elapsed when it was rumored that a 
meeting of the creditors had been called, and a dark sur- 
mise was circulated that the estate would not pay a shilling 
to the pound. What were his liabilities? Some said fifty 
thousand pounds, some a hundred thousand. 

‘‘ Oh, but Deacon Hoggard is such an honorable man 
he will never see his creditors go unpaid,” said the ma- 
jority of the wise Downham folks. He had the whole sym- 
pathy of the public on the day he appeared at his wife’s 
funeral, he looked so pale, anxious, nervous, humble and 
crest-fallen. He had buried his favorite daughter only two 
days previous, and when he was again seen at a second 
funeral in the same week, even the wretched victims he 
had defrauded of their all pitied this once proud man. 

Five weeks went by, and the doors of the bank remained 
olosed. The creditors were growing impatient, The 


266 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


bankas doors were hammered at, and the deacon’s house as 
well as the bank was beleagured by a weeping, wailing, 
despairing crowd. 

But like an idle wave beating on a rock, all this human 
misery dashed itself in vain against brick walls and iron 
shutters just as hard as the deacon’s heart. He sat in one 
of the upper rooms of his house, crouching over a fire, too 
frightened to stir out. 

Samuel Hoggard had been a hypocrite all his life. He 
was one of those born rascals who could never appreciate 
honor. He had practiced religion in order to win his fellow- 
man’s confidence; gave alms because it sounded well to 
be spoken of as a good, charitable Christian. 

When he lost his own money, he did not think it was 
criminal to appropriate his neighbors’ hard-earned savings. 
He compromised the matter with his own conscience by 
thinking he had borrowed the money for a few months, hop- 
ing his next speculation would be successful and he could 
refund it. 

In the hour of his adversity there was no more pitiable 
object to be found than Samuel Hoggard. He grew afraid 
to be alone, and under the cover of the night stole away 
and besought Dr. W^’estern to hide him. 

His daughter Annie and her husband did all they could 
to comfort the unfortunate man. They gave him a room, 
and Annie waited upon him herself. 

As soon as the deacon had vacated his house the creditors 
took possession of all his property, and it was sold for their 
benefit: Sparrow- well Tannery and all its out-buildings, 
his house, and all his real estate were sold, and finally all 
the furniture was disposed of at auction. 

The amount realized from the sales the creditors dis- 
covered would not be more than twenty per cent, to the 
pound, and as the greater part of their savings for years 
had totally vanished, they determined to be revenged. They 


SAIl^TS AND SINNEKS. 267 

went in a body to Dr. Western's house, and demanded to 
see the delinquent deacon. 

Dr. Western was absent, and no one was at home except 
Annie, her babe, and the servants. The poor lady was 
terrified, and implored her father to conceal himself. 

Deacon Hoggard was an abject cowaid, and knew better 
than to expect any mercy from his creditors. He hurriedly 
put on a large coat, kissed his daughter, dashed out of the 
back door, and succeeded in getting to the open country. 
The man ran for his life, for he knew his pursuers were 
thirsty for his blood. For two days and nights he had to 
hide himself, but on the third evening, seeing that most of 
his enemies had given up the hunt, he ventured toward the 
outskirts of the village. He was almost dead from hunger, 
terror, and exposure, and he hoped to be able to creep into 
his daughter's house unobserved. 

A boy saw him, and within an hour the ruined man had 
the savage mob hissing at his heels. On and on he went 
toward the brick-yards, and seeing a light in a cottage he 
made a supreme effort to reach it. Mr. Fletcher had for- 
gotten to latch the door when Lydia had gone on her er- 
rand, so the deacon did not stop to ask for admittance in 
his dire extremity. 

Although Jacob Fletcher was hungry he gave the last 
mouthful of bread he had to the man who had been the 
means of turning him out of house and home. The minis- 
ter practiced what he had always preached; though Samuel 
Hoggard had injured him he felt he had no right to avenge 
his wrongs. It was his duty to return good for evil, thus 
taking a noble revenge on the man who had been his foe. 

The howls of the enraged mob could now be heard dis- 
tinctly as it was approaching the minister's cottage. Sam- 
uel Hoggard's face grew giay with fright. He fell on his 
knejs, and raised his trembling hands, imploring the min- 
ister to save him. 

“ Oh, protect me; save me! They will tear me to pieces. 


268 


SAINTS ANJ) SINNERS. 


1 have been in the woods for two nights without food or 
shelter because they were after me. I dread their venge- 
ance. I\e robbed them! They can not get their money, 
and they want my life. For God^s sake, hear me; hide me 
somewhere! I have injured you, Jacob, but you won’t give 
me up to them, will you?” he whined. 

“ No, Samuel Hoggard. I will try to protect you from 
their violence. Come with me, you can hide in the back 
kitchen.” As the minister was speaking loud knocks were 
heard at the cottage door. “ Come, you have not a second 
to lose,” continued the minister, dragging the half-senseless 
man into the back room. 

When Mr. Fletcher opened the door Tom Marks and a 
crowd of men and boys with lighted torches in their hands 
entered. Tom recognized Mr. Fletcher, and took otf his 
cap. 

“ We are looking for that thief, Samuel Hoggard, sir. 
We have sworn to punish him if we can once get him into 
our hands. A boy told us he saw him this evening near 
the brick-yards.” 

‘‘ Tom Marks, you know that Deacon Hoggard has in- 
jured me and mine, but I have left him to God. We have 
no right to take vengeance on him. The deacon has been 
already punished for his misdeeds; leave the miserable 
creature in peace. ” 

“Mr. Fletcher, we know what you say is true, but we 
feel he ought to be made an example of. The poor man 
who steals a loaf of bread for his starving children is sent 
to prison, while men like Hoggard go unpunished. We 
want to see if we can not have the law on him, sir.” 

“ Be that as it may, I can not stop to argue with you; 
but I have a favor to ask of you, Tom.” 

“ Anything that 1 can do to serve you, I will, Mr. Fletch- 
er,” replied Tom, respectfully, but at the same time mov- 
ing gradually toward the door that led to the inner apart- 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


269 


inent, the crowd with him. Mr. Fletcher, however, had 
taken the precaution of standing with his back to the door. 

“ Tom, please take your friends away without disturbing 
my daughter. She has fallen into the first sound sleep she 
has had since she took the fever, and it is her sole chance 
of recovery.'’’ 

“I will, sir,” replied Tom Marks. ‘‘Boys,” said the 
young fellow, turning to his companions, “you all know 
Nurse Fletcher, who has been so kind to us all?” 

“ That we do, Tom,” answered several voices in unison. 

“ She is lying very ill, and if we make a disturbance here 
it will kill her. Come, let us go away quietly.” 

They stole out of the cottage one by one, feeling thor- 
oughly ashamed of themselves. Soon they had all gone ex- 
cept their leader, who said to Mr. Fletcher, while he twisted 
his cap shame-f acedly : 

‘ ‘ I hope we have not disturbed your daughter, Mr. 
Fletcher. I owe her a debt of gratitude, for she saved the 
lives of my wife and child. May Heaven reward her for it. 
Good-night, sir.” 

“ Good-night, Tom, and now go home to your wife and 
child,” replied Mr. Fletcher, kindly, as he followed Tom 
to the door, which he hastily bolted, feeling thankful he 
had saved the deacon from the violence of the mob. Shortly 
after he heard Lydia trying to enter, and admitted her 
quickly. “ Go and stay with Letty until I return; 1 have 
to go out for a few minutes.” 

“ Very well, sir. Please come back as soon as you are 
able, for I must go out again to buy some tea. Mrs. West- 
ern was too ill to see me, and the doctor was out. I got 
Miss Letty’s medicine, but she will have to have some tea 
and oatmeal.” 

“ 1 am sorry to hear Annie is ill,” said the minister. 

“ Oh, her father is the cause of it. He never treated 
her decently when she was at home, but she’s been a good 
daughter to him in all his trouble. It is strange old Hog- 


276 


Saints and sin neks. 


gard ever had such a sweet girl as Aimie for a daughter. 
There’s some mighty queer peojjle in the world, sir, and 
that old villain is one of them,” said Lydia, as she opened 
the door of Letty’s room. As soon as she had gone Mr. 
Fletcher hurried to the back kitchen, and said to the dea- 
con, who had somewhat recovered: 

‘ ‘ Come, you must leave here at once, for Lydia has re- 
turned. ” 

Samuel Hoggard was touched by the minister’s kindness 
to him. “ Fletcher, I treated you badly, and I now know 
how much 1 wronged you, and humbly ask your forgive- 
ness.” 

“Deacon, I forgave you long ago. Try to ask God’s 
pardon for all your sins. His mercy is great, and He will 
forgive us if we are truly repentant.” 

Mr. Fletcher walked with Hoggard far beyond the con- 
fines of the village, and on the way tried to console the un- 
happy man. He told him he would see Dr. Western, and 
between them they would try to devise some means of 
getting him away from Downham on the following day. 
He directed Hoggard where to get shelter for the night, 
and then Mr. Fletcher returned home, feeling that he had 
done his duty becaue he had returned good for evil. 

The next morning, as he was about to seek the doctor in 
accordance with his promise of the preceding night, Tom 
Marks knocked at the door. The minister opened it him- 
self. “ Good-morning, Tom. What brings you here so 
early?” 

“ Good-morning, sir. How is Miss Fletcher?” 

“ She is better this morning. Thank you for coming to 
inquire about her.” The minister stood expectantly, see- 
ing his visitor had something further to say. 

“ Mr. Fletcher,” said Tom, then he paused, as if he were 
Kifraid to tell the minister the news which he had to com- 
municate, “ we found Samuel Hoggard’s body floating in the 
river this morning. We fished him out, but we want you to 


SAIKTS AND SINNERS. 


271 


break the news to liis son-in-law. He must have com- 
mitted suicide. 

“ He may have fallen into the Ouse, Tom, as he was try- 
ing to get away from the mob. You know they got after 
him again last night. Let us give him the benefit of the 
doubt, said Mr. Fletcher. 

So he might have, sir, and the river runs swiftly where 
we found him. Shall we take the body to Doctor West- 
eriFs?^^ 

‘‘ You can do so in an hour's time. I will go before, ' 
and prepare the afflicted family, for they have suffered 
greatly," responded Mr. Fletcher, as he went out of the 
cottage with Tom Marks. As he went along he thought of 
those lines of Horace — “ Justice, though moving with 
tardy pace, has seldom failed in overtaking the wicked in 
their flight." 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

JOTFUL TIDINGS. 

Lydia sat shivering over a wretched cinder fire that 
did not impart a ray of light or heat to the desolate room. 
She had no more coals to burn, nor money to purchase 
them, because she had expended even the last farthing of 
her own savings. Her true, brave heart grew faint for the 
first time since she had left Bethel Parsonage at the 
thought of the wolf on the threshold. 

Ill-luck followed the minister. He could only obtain a 
call here and there to preach, and for his services he never 
received more than five shillings. These small amounts 
had only sufficed to pay the rent of the miserable cottage 
that afforded them shelter. 

Letty was still slowly convalescing, and Lydia felt ex- 
ceedingly anxious about her. The invalid would have been 
well entirely by this time if she had been given proper and 
sufficient nourishment. 


272 


SAIN^TS AND SINNEKS. 


The faithful woman^s discouragemQnt completely over- 
came her, and she wept outright from sheer heartache. A 
smart rap on the cottage door caused her to spring to her 
feet, and hastily rubbing the tears away, she went to the 
door, muttering to herself: 

“ I wonder who it is?^^ as she lifted the latch to admit 
the visitor. 

“ Good-evening, Miss Lydia, said Lot Burden, who 
walked past her into the cottage. 

“ Good-evening, Mr. Burden, answered Lydia, discon- 
solately, as she placed a chair for her friend. 

“ How is Miss Letty?^^ 

‘‘ She is about the same, Mr. Burden, thank you.-’^ 

‘‘ Has the minister received a call to any parish yet?^^ 

“No, Mr. Burden, he has not. Samuel Hoggard did 
Mr. Fletcher all the harm he could. He kept his word;^’ 
and Lydia laughed sarcastically. Her laugh was more 
hysterical than mirthful, for her crying fit had not quite 
passed away. 

“ But he never prospered. Miss Lydia, from the hour he 
made Mr. Fletcher resign his pulpit. Things then began 
to go wrong with Samuel Hoggard. Why, he was ruined 
long before he commenced to borrow money of the bank.'’^ 

“ Served him right. He was nothing but a hard-hearted 
old hypocrite, exclaimed Lydia. 

“ Mr. Fletcher preached the best sermon I ever heard 
at Hoggard^s funeral yesterday, remarked Lot. 

“ Of course; if there ever was a real true Christian in 
this world, it is Jacob Fletcher,^^ remarked Lydia. “I 
couldn’t have said a kind word in that man’s favor if I 
had been in Mr. Fletcher’s place. It would have choked 
me if I had uttered it. You don’t know how contemptibly 
he treated the minister. Mr. Fletcher would have had a 
chapel long ago if that man had not hounded him every 
time there was a chance for him to get a pulpit. ” 


SAIN'TS AND SINNEKS. 


273 

Yes, Miss Lydia; 1 know the deacon acted badly to- 
ward the minister/’ assented Lot Burden. 

“ So badly that things can not be much worse with Mr. 
Fletcher. I don’t know wdiere our next meal is coming 
from,” Lydia blurted out desperately. 

Out of my pocket-book, Lydia.” 

The housekeeper was overcome with confusion at the 
admission she had made of their poverty. She stammered 
out: 

“ The minister— would be angry, Mr. Burden — if I — 1 
accepted your kindness; he says he does not want charity, 
but only a fair chance of earning his bread.” 

Lot answered her briskly: 

“Mr. Fletcher is right; but you all must not starve or 
go to the work-house while he is trying to find a parish. 
Miss Lydia, I do wish you would listen to reason for once 
in your life.” 

Lot was almost overcome by his own audacity at thus 
addressing Lydia, but to his infinite surprise she replied 
quite meekly: 

“ 1 will gladly take your advice, Mr. Burden.” 

“ Let me give you a portion of my salary every Satur- 
day until Mr. Fletcher gets another congregation.” He 
stopped for a moment, and then went on in a low, per- 
suasive tone: “ If you do not like to accept any favors 
from me as Miss Lydia Phillips, you can do so as Mrs. 
Lot Burden.” 

The elderly maiden blushed and hesitated for some time 
before she replied to her suitor, but said at length: 

“You are very kind, Mr. Burden, but I can not leave 
the minister now.’^ 

“ 1 am not asking you to leave Mr. Fletcher. We can 
all live together. Lydia, I think for the sake of propriety 
you ought to become Mrs. Burden,” insinuated Lot, with 
a merry twinkle in his eyes. 

Indeed, Mr. Burden, I do not care to marry/^ 


274 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


Pshaw, Lydia! You can not live alone all the days of 
your life. A smart woman like you was not made for sin- 
gle blessedness.^’ 

“ Nonsense, Mr. Burden. Smart women are generally 
much better olf alone. ” 

“ There, I don’t agree with you. * Women are happier 
when they are married to men who love and care for them. 
Miss Lydia, you are getting on in years, and you had bet- 
ter snap me up while 1 am in the humor.” 

‘‘ 1 have refused you so often, Mr. Burden, that it would 
seem strange to say yes. ” 

‘‘ Now, see here. Miss Lydia, this is going tD be the last 
time I will ask you. I am a steady man, I earn three 
pounds a week, and have the promise of four next month 
from the new firm. The manager of the company is a 
liberal man, and worth a dozen men like Deacon Hoggard. 
I have money enough saved to furnish a house comforta- 
bly. Come, Lydia, say yes,” said Lot, as he put his arm 
over the back of Lydia’s chair, and looked into her face 
with what he imagined must be a very captivating facial 
expression. 

Lydia turned slightly and looked askance at him. 

“ 1 would not take you with such a queer-looking face, 
Mr. Burden. You are not a handsome man at best, but 
when you screw your features up like that you are posi- 
tively ugly.” 

Lot was somewhat crest-fallen at this, but he said, cheer- 
fully: 

‘^Well, then. Miss Lydia, I will iiot smile if you will 
like me any better;” and his face resumed its ordinary ex- 
pression. 

‘‘You look a great deal better now, Mr. Burden.” 
Lydia looked critically at him, and then smiled. 

“ Will you answer my question. Miss Lydia?” asked her 
suitor, as his face flushed hotly and he spoke in a low, de- 


SAIKTS AND SINKERS. 275 

termined tone, which warned Lydia that she must trifle no 
longer with him. 

“ Will you give Mr. Fletcher and Letty a home?^^ 

‘‘ I will share my last farthing with them. I will work 
for them as cheerfully as I would for your own father and 
sister if they were alive. I know Mr. Fletcher has been a 
father to you. If we shared our home with him, we would 
only be paying back the debt of gratitude you owe to the 
kind old man. Now, Lydia, will you say yes?^^ 

“ I will say yes, Mr. Burden, for you are a downright 
good little man.'’^ 

“ Thank you. Miss Lydia. May I — I — may — I — kiss — 
you?’^ stammered Lot, fairly blushing. 

“I suppose — so,’^ she replied, and added, quickly: 
‘‘ You must kiss me on my cheek. Lydia blushed down 
to the collar of her dress. 

Lot did as she had commanded very respectfully, for he 
felt he was none too sure of Lydia yet. Just after he had 
kissed her. Lot’s betrothed burst into tears. 

“ Have I offended you. Miss Lydia?” asked Lot, bend- 
ing over her in evident distress. 

“No, Lot; but you are so good, and I was so unhap- 
py,” Lydia answered, hiding her crimson face on her 
sweetheart’s broad shoulder, still weeping. He felt her 
shiver and looked at the miserable apology for a fire they 
were sitting before. “It is cold this evening, isn’t it, 
Lydia?” said he, trying to divert her sad thoughts. 

“ Very cold, indeed,” she answered, raising her head 
and wiping her eyes, as she walked over to the closet and 
opened it. “ Come here. Lot, and you will see why 1 was 
so low-spirited,” said the housekeeper. Pointing to a small 
piece of bread on a plate, she went on speaking— “ That 
is the only morsel of food we have in the house. ” 

“ Come with me at once, Lydia; we will go and buy Mr. 
Fletcher a good supper, for he shall not starve if I can help 
it; and you? must have some coals, too. It is too cold for 


27G 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


you to be without a fire, and poor Miss Letty will catch her 
death if the house is not made warmer for her.'’^ 

“ Yes, you are right; I was more worried about her than 
I can tell you,^^ answered Lydia, as she tied on her bonnet. 

Lot took her shawl down from the peg, and threw it 
over her shoulders, slyly embracing her as he put it on. 
This time he was not repulsed; the happy woman blushed, 
and said: 

“ Come, Lot, that will do. At our time of life we can 
dispense with such nonsense. 

“ Ahem! I donT know how old you feel, Lydia, but 1 
am as young to-night as a lad of twenty. Take my arm, 
we will walk to the butcher’s and grocer’s, like an old mar- 
ried couple who expect to celebrate their silver wedding in 
a few weeks.” 

Lydia said nothing in reply, but she felt more contented 
than she had been for years, because she knew she had 
won a good man’s love. 

Lydia and Lot had hardly left the cottage wdien there 
was a loud knock at the door, which made Mr. Fletcher 
rise from his chair beside his daughter’s bedside, and go- 
ing into the kitchen, he admitted the visitor. 

It was Deacon Prabble who entered and walked to the 
middle of the fioor before Mr. Fletcher could recall him to 
mind. 

“ I did not recognize you, Mr. Prahble,” said the min- 
ister. 

“ I thought you did not,” replied Deacon Prabble, shak- 
ing hands with his old pastor. “ I called to see you this 
evening on business. We’ve had a meeting, and the mem- 
bers of the congregation want you to come back. The 
fact of the matter is, Mr. Fletcher, we have not got along 
as comfortably as we liked with our last minister. He 
had a call to another chapel and resigned. I have been 
sent as a representative of the entire congregation to in- 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


277 


duce you to return to us, for we know you and you under- 
stand us.^^ 

Mr. Fletcher was greatly moved at the thought of re- 
joining his old friends. 

“ I should be glad to devote the remaining years of my 
life to my people, for you all seem to belong to me, as it 
were; but my daughter Letty — 

That has all been talked over, sir, and we have con- 
cluded to let by-gones be by-gones. We want Miss Fletcher 
back as well as yourself. 

A low cry sounded through the room and caused both 
Mr. Fletcher and his visitor to look around. They were 
astonished to see Letty, looking very pale, staggering down 
the steps separating her room from the ground-floor. Her 
father sprung forward, and said: 

“ My dear child, how imprudent you are to leave your 
room. You are too weak. If you wanted anything, you 
should have called me or knocked on the wall. Lydia has 
gone out for a moment, I believe,^ ^ said the minister, as 
he assisted his daughter to a chair. 

“Oh, daddy she gasped, painfully, “is it true that 
they want you to return to Bethel Chapel?’’ Letty clasped 
her hands anxiously together and looked eagerly into her 
father’s face; she was afraid her ears had deceived her. 

“It is true. Miss Letty. You must try and prevail on 
your father to return to us,” said Deacon Prabble, reply- 
ing to her question. 

“ Yes, Mr. Prabble, 1 shall be only too happy to do so,” 
answered Letty, smiling faintly. 

“ And you must come back with him. We want you 
both,” the deacon continued. 

“ Oh,” Letty gasped, and fell back in her chair, pant- 
ing for breath. 

“ What is the matter. Miss Letty?” asked Deacon Prab- 
ble, looking alarmed. 

“ The good news has proved almost too much for her in 


278 


SAINTS AND SINNEKS. 


her present weak state/ ^ replied Mr. Fletcher, hastily pour- 
ing out some water from a pitcher on the table for Letty. 

“What a brute I ami 1 forgot she was recovering 
from the fever. Shall I tell the congregation you will 
occupy your old pulpit next Sunday? We can give you a 
salary of two hundred pounds now, for we have prospered 
wonderfully since the Methodists shut up. Will you ac- 
cept the oSer?” 

“ I will, gladly. Tell my people I shall be happy to be 
among them again,^^ answered Mr. Fletcher, in a voice be- 
traying his emotion. 

‘ ‘ 1 hope you will consider the question of the co-opera- 
tive store, sir, for my sake, as I find it hard to get along 
since it has been opened in Downham. 

“ I will do my very best to make the congregation pat- 
ronize you, deacon, for you have been very kind to me in 
my troubles; but I am afraid I could not make a pulpit 
question of it. We have suffered very much since we left 
Bethel Parsonage, sir.^' 

“I am very sorry for it, Mr. Fletcher. A great deal of 
it was old Hoggard’s fault, but we were to blame also. 
We ought to have known better. Good-evening, Mr. 
Fletcher. Good-evening, Miss Letty. I hope you will 
soon be well. Deacon Prabble shook hands with his old 
friends and departed. 

“ Thank God, Letty, we have conquered them! Our 
days of tribulation are at an end, my darling child. 

“ Oh, daddy, how grateful I am to have lived to see you 
restored to your old honorable position and my neighbors 
know if I sinned 1 did so unintentionally."’^ 

“ We have much to thank a merciful Providence for, 
my daughter,” said Mr. Fletcher, as he kissed his daugh- 
ter. 

Their hearts were too full for further utterance. Both 
father and daughter sat still and silent, their thoughts 
busy with the past. Another loud knock at the door in- 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


279 


terrupted their reverie. When Mr. Fletcher had opened it 
he started back with a cry of glad surprise, for Ralph 
Kingsmill stood before him. 

Oh, Mr. Fletcher! how glad I am to see you once 
more. 

“Not more rejoiced than 1 am, my lad, to behold your 
face again,'" was the minister's greeting as their hands met 
in a warm clasp. 

“ Where is Letty?" 

“Here she is, Ralph," answered the minister, leading 
him to the chair where she sat. 

“ Why, lass, how pale you are! What ails you?" de- 
manded Ralph, anxiously. 

“ She has been very ill with typhus fever, Ralph." 

“ Thank Heaven she is alive, for they told me in the 
village that the fever had carried off a lot of the folks." 

“Yes, we have had a very hard time of it. Letty had a 
narrow escape, but the Lord spared her, 1 hope, to close 
my old eyes, Ralph. " 

“ Letty, I have come all the way from Australia to ask 
you to be my wife," said Ralph, bending over the blushing 
girl. “1 have a nice home to offer you. Bethel Ranch 
needs a mistress. Will you try to care for me a little, 
dear?" 

Letty raised her eyes to his face, and murmured: 

“'My noble friend, have you forgiven me?" 

“ Hush, dear! That is all over now." 

“ What does it matter now that it is all over? I was 
tempted, and thought that 1 loved him, but I was deserted 
and deceived. My punishment was great, but just." 

“ Captain Fanshawe deceived you, Letty, but he did not 
desert you," answered Ralph, gravely. 

Letty asked him breathlessly: 

“ How do you know that?" 

“ Because I have seen the captain and conversed with 
him. When ‘ The Queen,' the steamer 1 came over in, 


280 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 


touched at Alexandria, an officer with his servant came on 
board. 1 did not see him when he was carried to his state- 
room as I was on shore at tlie time, but that evening, when 
I passed his state-room. Captain Fanshawe saw me. He 
told me how he had deceived you, how great was his sor- 
row for the past, and implored me to tell you why he had 
not returned to England to make you his legal wife. He 
died with your name on his lips.^’ 

‘‘ Poor Eustace murmured Letty, sobbing. 

“ I have just come from his grave, Letty. When he 
was dying he asked me to make you my wife. In your 
hands rests the answer, dear.'’^ 

“Oh, Ealph! I do love you, but I am not worthy of 
your devotion. 

Kalph’s only reply was to open his arms and fold her 
tightly to his heart. Letty sobbed out her joy as she rested 
her weary head on his manly breast. 

“ Ealph, are you sure you will never doubt me?^'’ 

“ No shadow of a doubt, dear, will ever come between 
us. It shall not be my fault if you are not soon in my 
keeping. 

When they had all become somewhat calmer, Ealph gave 
the minister's daughter Eustace Fanshawe^s message, and 
related the history of the officer's life since he left Eng- 
land. 

“ He sinned, he suffered, he repented; therefore we can 
not refuse to obey his dying request. He made all the 
reparation that lay in his power, and I thank God my 
daughter’s reputation can be cleared before men!” said 
Mr. Fletcher, solemnly. 

“ Ealph, I shall take your advice, and accept this fort- 
une; but I will use it for the benefit of suffering humanity, 
so that Eustace Fanshawe’s charity shall live after him. ” 

“ My noble girl!” exclaimed Ealph, giving Letty an elo- 
quent look as he said to her, “ 1 shaU pever ask you to 
l^ave your father, dear/^ 


BAINTS AND SINKERS. 281 

They were sitting side by side, and she stole her little 
hand into his with a mute inquiry. 

‘‘ Will you go to Australia with us, Mr. Fletcher? You 
will find plenty to do there, for we need preachers in that 
part of the world. 

Before Mr. Fletcher could answer Ralph, Lot Burden 
and Lydia entered the room followed by Peter Greenacre. 

“ Good gracious!’^ ejaculated Lydia, “ as true as I live. 
Lot, there is Ralph Kingsmill!’^ and the good woman 
shook hands with Ralph cordially. Lot followed her ex- 
ample, and while they were talking Peter said to the min- 
ister : 

“ Please, sir, come and see dim Bowls; Doctor Western 
says it is all up with him. I had to sit beside him all night 
to keep him from throwing himself out of the window. 
He has been seeing rats and snakes. What a curse drink 
is, Mr. Fletcher 

“It is about time you have come to that conclusion, 
Peter, answered the minister. 

“ I am going to take the pledge, sir.^^ 

“Take it, Peter, if you can keep it,^’ advised Mr. 
Fletcher. 

“ Mr. Fletcher, that minister they had at Bethel never 
refreshed my soul. I am going to join the Episcopals, for 
they give out hot pea-soup three times a week, and a 
blanket apiece to the poor of the parish. Will you come 
and see poor Jim?^^ 

“ Yes, Peter; 1 will be there in an hour. Good-even- 
ing."^ 

“ Good-evening, sir,"" answered Peter, bowing politely 
as he passed out of the back door. 

During this conversation Letty had been considering 
Lydia very attentively, and she now gave voice to her 
thoughts: 

. “ Daddy, I really believe Lot and Lydia are going to be 
married at last. "" 


2S2 


SAINTS AND SINKERS. 


Lydia overheard Letty’s remark, and she blushed furi- 
ously, and whispered to Lot: 

Tell the minister 1 have gone and made a fool of my- 
self. 

Lot, thus addressed, looked confused for a moment, but 
he mustered up courage, and said: 

“ Mr. Fletcher, Lydia has consented to be my wife.^^ 
And we want you and Miss Letty to make your home 
with us,^^ pleaded the faithful little woman. 

“ Thank you, Lydia. You have proved true to us in 
our adversity. Lot, you have won one of the best women 
for a wife. Thank you both for your kindness, but I will 
have to refuse your hospitality, as my old congregation 
want me to return to Bethel Parsonage. Ralph and Letty 
are going to be married, and they wish me to spend my 
last days with them.^^ 

‘‘ My dear old friend, let me settle this matter for you,^^ 
observed Ralph Kingsmill. “ We will all go to Australia 
together. Lot Burden and I will become partners in a 
new tannery out there. What do you say to my plan, 
Lot?’^ 

“ 1 accept, with thanks, Ralph. I have no ties to bind 
me to England. Lydia and I will be happy to settle 
among you. 

Mr. Fletcher spent six months with his old friends. 
Letty was married in Bethel Chapel by her father before the 
whole congregation. As her disgrace had been public, so 
was her vindication. Lot and Lydia were married that 
same evening. The bridal couples sailed three days after- 
ward from London for Melbourne, accompanied by Letty’s 
father. 

Many of Mr. Fletcher’s congregation went to London to 
see him off, and he parted from them reluctantly. He was 
too old to ever see them again in this world. 


SAINTS AND SINNERS. 283 

As the steamer left the dock, Letty turned to her hus- 
band, and said: 

“ Ralph, I feel so happy 

“So do I, Letty. Let us hope that our happiness will 
last during our lives. 

“ I feel that it will, dear,^^ replied Letty, with a sweet, 
upward glance. 


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69 Madolin’s Lover. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 20 

70 Wliite Wings: A Yachting Ro- 

mance. By William Black . . 10 

71 Struggle for Fame, A. By Mrs. 

J. H. Riddell 20 

?2 Old Myd del ton’s Money. By 
Mary Cecil Hay 20 


Redeemed by Love; or. Love’s 
Victory. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne ” 20 

Aurora Floyd, By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

Twenty Years After. By Alex- 
ander Dumas 20 

Wife in Name Only; or, A Bro- 
ken Heart. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne ” 20 

Tale of Two Cities, A. By 

Charles Dickens 20 

Madcap Violet. By Wm. Black 20 
Wedded and Parted. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“Dora Thorne” 10 

June. By Mrs. Forrester 20 

Daughter of Heth, A. By Will- 
iam Black 20 

Sealed Lips. F, Du Boisgobey. 20 
Strange Story, A, By Sir E. 

Bulwer Lytton 20 

Hard Times. By Chas. Dickens 10 
Sea Queen, A. By W. Clark 

Russell 20 

Belinda. By Rhoda Broughton ^ 
Dick Sand; or, A Captain at 

Fifteen, By Jules Verne 20 

Privateersman, The. By Cap- 
tain Marry at 20 

Red Eric, The. ByR. M, Ballan- 

tyne 10 

Ernest Maltra vers. By Sir E.Bul- 

Aver Lytton 20 

Barnaby Rudge. By Charles 

Dickens. First half 20 

Barnaby Rudge. By Charles 

Dickens. Second half 20 

Lord Lynne’s Choice. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“Dora Thorne” 10 

Anthony Trollope’s Autobiog- 
raphy 20 

Little Dorrit. By Charles Dick- 


Little Dorrit. By Charles Dick- 
ens. Second half 20 

Fire Brigade, The. By R. M. 

Ballantyne lO 

Erling the Bold. By R. M, Bal- 
lantyne 10 

All in a Garden Fair. By Wal- 
ter Besant 20 

W’oman-Hater, A. By Charles 

Reade 20 

Barbara’s History. By Amelia 

B. Edwards T 20 

20,000 Leagues Under the Seas. 

By Jules Verne 20 

Second Thoughts. By Rhoda 

Broughton 20 

Moonstone, The. Wilkie Collins 30 
Rose Fleming. By Dora Russell 10 
Coi*al Pin, The. By F. Du Bois- 
gobey. 1st half 20 

Coral Pin, The. By F. Du Bois- 
gobey. 2d half 20 


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THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


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105 Noble Wife, A. John Saunders 

106 bleak House. By Charles Dick- 

ens. First half 

106 Bleak House. By Charles Dick- 

ens. Second half 

107 Dombey and Son. By Charles 

Dickens. First half 

107 Dombey and Son. By Charles 

Dickens. Second half 

108 Cricket on the Hearth, The. 

By Charles Dickens 

108 Doctor Marigold. By Charles 

DickGHS* 

109 Little Loo. By W. Clark Russell 

110 Under the Red Flag. By Miss 

M. E. Braddon 

111 Little School-master Mark, The. 

By J. H. Shorthouse 

112 Waters of Marah, The. By John 

Hill 

113 Mrs. Carr’s Companion. By M. 

G. Wightwick 

114 Some of Our Girls. By Mrs. C. 

J. Eiloart 

115 Diamond Cut Diamond. By T. 

Adolphus Trollope 

116 Moths. By “Ouida” 

117 Tale of the Shore and Ocean, A. 

By William H. G. Kingston.. 

118 Loys. Lord Berresford, and 

Eric Dering. “ The Duchess ” 

119 Monica, and A Rose Distill’d. 

By “The Duchess” 

120 Tom Brown’s School Days at 

Rugby. By Thomas Hughes. 

121 Maid of Athens. By Justin 

McCarthy 

122 lone Stewart. By Mrs. E. Lynn 

Linton 

123 Sweet is True Love. By “ The 

^ 

124 Three Feathers. By Wm. Black 

125 Monarch of Mincing Lane, The. 

Bv William Black 

126 Kilmeny. By William Black.. 

127 Adrian Bright. By Mrs. Caddy 

128 Afternoon, and Other Sketches. 

By “Ouida” 

129 Rossmoyne. By “The Duchess” 

130 Last of the Barons, The, By Sir 

E. Bulwer Lytton. 1st half.. 

130 Last of the Barons, The. By Sir 

E. Bulwer Lytton. 2d half.. 

131 Our Mutual Friend. By Charles 

Dickens. First half 

131 Our Mutual Friend. By Charles 

Dickens. Second half 

132 Master Humphrey’s Clock. By 

Charles Dickens., 

133 Peter the Whaler. By William 

H. G. Kingston 

134 Witching Hour, The, and Other 

Stories. Bv “ The Duchess ” . 
1^ Great Heiress, A : A Fortune in 
Seven Checks. By R. E. Fran- 

cillon 

136 “That Last Rehearsal,” and 
Other Stories. By “The 
Duchess” 


137 Uncle Jack. By Walter Besant 10 

138 Green Pastures and Piccadilly. 

By Wm. Black 20 

139 Romantic Adventures of a Milk- 

maid, The. By Thomas Hardy 10 

140 Glorious Fortune, A. By Wal- 

ter Besant 10 

141 She Loved Him! By Annie 

Thomas 10 

142 Jenifer. By Annie Thomas 20 

143 One False, Both Fair. By John 

B. Harwood 20 

144 Promises of Marriage. By Emile 

Gaboriau 10 

145 “Storm-Beaten;” God and The 

Man. By Robert Buchanan. 20 

146 Love Finds the Way, and Other 


Stories. By Walter Besant 
and James Rice 10 

147 Rachel Ray. By Anthony Troll- 

ope 20 

148 Thorns and Orange-Blossoms. 

By Charlotte M. Braeme, au- 
thor of “Dora Thorne” 10 

149 Captain’s Daughter, The. From 

the Russian of Pushkin 10 

150 For Himself Alone. By T. W, 

Speight 10 

151 Ducie Diamonds. The. By C. 

Blatherwick 10 

152 Uncommercial Traveler, The. 

By Charles Dickens 20 

153 Golden Calf, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

154 Annan Watei’. By Robert Buch- 

anan 20 

155 Lady Muriel’s Secret. By Jean 

Middlemas 20 

156 “For a Dream’s Sake.” By Mrs. 

Herbert Martin 20 

157 Milly’s Hero. By F. W. Robinson 20 

158 Starling, The. By Norman 

Macleod. D.D 10 

159 Captain Norton’s Diary, and 

A Moment of Madness. By 
Florence Marryat 10 

160 Her Gentle Deeds. By Sarah 

Tvtler 10 

161 Lady of Lyons, The. Founded 

on the Play of that title by 
Lord Lytton 10 

162 Eugene Aram. By Sir E. Bulwer 

Lytton 20 

163 Winifred Power. By Joyce Dar- 

rell 20 

164 Leila ; or. The Siege of Grenada. 

By Bulwer Lytton 10 

165 History of Henry Esmond, The. 

By William M. Thackeray. . . 20 

166 Moonshine and Marguerites. 

By “The Duchess” 10 

167 Heart and Science. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

168 No Thoroughfare. By Dickens 

and Collins 1C 

169 Haunted Man, The. By Charles 

Dickens 10 

170 A Great Treason. By Mary 

Hoppus. First half 20 


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THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition. 


170 A Great Treason. By Mary 

Hoppus. Second half 20 

171 Fortune’s Wheel. By “ The 

Duchess” 10 

172 ” Golden Girls.” By Alan Muir 20 

173 Forei^rners, The. By Eleanor C. 

Price - 20 

174 Under a Ban. By Mrs. Lod^e. 20 

175 Love’s Random Shot. By W ilkie 

Collins 10 

176 An April Day. By Philippa Prit- 

tie Jeptison 10 

177 Salem Chapel. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

178 More Leaves from the Journal 

of a Life in the Highlands. 

By Queen Victoria 10 

179 Little Make-Believe. By B. L. 

Farjeon 10 

180 Round the Galley Fire. By W. 

Clark Russell 10 

181 New Abelard, The. By Robert 

Buchanan 10 

182 Millionaire, The 20 

183 Old Contrairy, and Other Sto- 

ries. By Florence Marryat.. 10 

184 Thirlby Hall. By W. E. Norris 20 

185 Dita. By Lady Margaret Ma- 


jendie 10 

186 Canon’s Ward, The. By James 

Payn 20 

187 Midnight Sun, The. By Fredrika 

Bremer 10 

188 Idonea. By Anne Beale 20 


190 Romance of a Black Veil. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
ot “Dora Thorne” 10 

191 Harry Lorrequer. By Charles 

Lever T 20 

192 At the World’s Mercy. By F. 

Warden 10 

193 Rosery Folk, The. By G. Man- 

ville Fenn 10 

194 “So Near, and Yet So Far!” 

By Alison 10 

195 “ Way of the World, The.” By 

David Christie Murray 20 

196 Hidden Perils. Mary Cecil Hay 20 

197 For Her Dear Sake. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

198 Husband’s Story, A 10 

199 Fisher Village, The. By Anne 

Beale 10 

200 An Old Man’s Love. By Anthony 

Trollope 10 

201 Monastery, The. By Sir Walter 

Scott 20 

202 Abbot, The. Sequel to “ The 

Monastery.” By Sir Walter 
Scott 20 

203 John Bull and His Island. By 

Max O’Rell 10 

204 Vixen. By Miss IM. E. Braddon 20 

205 Minister’s Wife, The. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 30 

206 Picture, The, and Jack of All 

Trades, By Charles Reade.#* 10 


207 Pretty Miss Neville. By B. M. 

Croker 20 

208 Ghost of Charlotte Cray, The, 

and Other Stories. By Flor- 


1. jr . VV/ 

209 John Holdsworth, Chief Mate. 

By W. Clark Russell 10 

210 Readiaua: Comments on Cur- 

rent Events. By Chas. Reade 10 

211 Octoroon, The. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 10 

212 Charles O’Malley, the Irish 

Dragoon. By Charles Lever. 
First half 20 

212 Charles O’Malley, the Irish 

Dragoon. Bj’^ Charles Lever. 
Second half 20 

213 Terrible Temptation, A. By 

Chas. Reade 20 

214 Put Yourself in His Place. By 

Charles Reade 20 

215 Not Like Other Girls. By Rosa 

Nouchette Carey 20 

216 Foul Play. By Chai-les Reade. 20 

217 Man She Cared For, The. By 

F. W. Robinson 20 

218 Agnes Sorel. By G. P. R. James 20 

219 Lady Clare ; or. The Master of 

the Forges From the French 
of Georges Ohnet 10 

220 Which Loved Him Best? By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

221 Cornin’ Thro’ the Rye. By Helen 

222 Sun-Maid, The. By Miss Grant 20 

223 Sailor’s Sweetheart, A, By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

224 Arundel Motto, The, By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

225 Giant’s Robe, The. By F. Anstey 20 

226 Friendship. By “Ouida” 20 

227 Nancy. By Rhoda Broughton. 20 

228 Princess Napraxine. “ Ouida ” 20 

229 Maid, Wife, or Widow? By 

Mrs. Alexander 10 

230 Dorothy Forster. By Walter 

Besant 20 

231 Griffith Gaunt; or. Jealousy. 

By Charles Reade 20 

232 Love and Money; or, A Peril- 

ous Secret. By Chas. Reade. 10 

233 “1 Say No;” or. The Love-Let- 

ter Answered. By Wilkie Col- 
lins 20 

234 Barbara; or, Splendid Misery. 

By Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

235 “ It is Never Too Late to Mend.” 

By Charles Reade 20 

236 Which Shall It Be? By Mrs. 

Alexander ' 20 

237 Repented at Leisure, By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

238 Pascarel. By “Ouida” ^ 

239 Signa. By “Ouida” 20 

240 Called Back. By Hugh Conway 10 

241 Baby’s Gi'andniother, The. By 

If, a. Walford 10 


THE SEASIDE LIBEADY — Pocket Edition. 


5 


242 Two Orphans, The. By D’En- 

nery *. lo 

243 Tom Burke of “Ours.” By 

Charles Lever. First half... 20 

243 Tom Burke of “Ours.” By 

Charles Lever. Second half. 20 

244 Great Mistake, A. By the author 

of “Cherry” 20 

245 Miss Tommy. By Miss Mulock 10 

246 Fatal Dower, A. By the Author 

of “ His Wedded Wife ” 20 

247 Armourer’s Prentices, The. By 

Charlotte M. Yonge 10 

248 House on the Marsh, The. By 

F. Warden 10 

849 “Prince Charlie’s Daughter.” 

By Charlotte M. Braeme, au- 
thor of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

250 Sunshine and Roses ; or, Diana’s 

Discipline. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne” 10 

251 Daughter of the Stars, The, and 

Other Tales. By Hugh Con- 
way, author of “ Called 
Back” 10 

252 Sinless Secret, A. By “Rita” 10 
2.53 Amazon, The. By Carl Vosmaer 10 

254 Wife’s Secret, The, and Fair but 

False. Charlotte M. Bi'aeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 

255 Mystery, The. By Mrs. Henry 

Wood 

256 Mr. Smith : A Part of His Life. 

By L. B. Walford 

257 Beyond Recall. By Adeline Ser- 

geant. 10 

258 Cousins. By L. B. Walford 20 

259 Bride of Monte-Cristo, The. A 

Sequel to “ The Count of 
Monte-Cristo.” By Alexan- 
der Dumas 10 

260 Proper Pride. By B. M. Croker 10 

261 Fair Maid, A. By F. W. Robin- 

son 20 

262 Count of Monte-Cristo, The. 

By Alexander Dumas. Part I 30 

262 Count of Monte-Cristo, The. 

By Alexander Dumas. Part H 30 

263 An Ishmaelite. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

264 Pi6doTiche, a French Detective. 


10 

20 

20 


By Fortune Du Boisgobey... 10 
265 Judith Shakespeare : Her Love 
Affairs and Other Advent- 
ures. By William Black — 20 
366 Water-Babies, The. A Fairy 
Tale for a Land-Baby. By the 
Rev. Charles Kingsley 10 

267 Laurel 'Vane; or. The Girls’ 

Conspiracy. By Mrs. Alex. 
McVeigh Miller 20 

268 Lady Gay’s Pride; or, The Mi- 

ser’s Treasure. By Mrs. Alex. 
McVeigh Miller 20 

269 Lancaster s Choice. By Mrs. 

Alex. McVeigh Miller 20 

870 Wandering Jew, The. By Eu- 
gene Sue. Part 1 30 


270 Wandering Jew, The. By Eu- 

gene Sue. Part 11 30 

271 Mysteries of Paris, The. By Eu- 

gene Sue. Parti 30 

271 Mysteries of Paris, The. By Eu- 

gene Sue. Part II .' 80 

272 Little Savage, The. By Captain 

Marryat 10 

273 Love and Mirage; or, The Wait- 

ing on an Island. By M. 
Betham-Ed wards 1(J 

274 Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse, 

Princess of Great Britain and 
Ireland. Biographical Sketch 

and Letters 10 

375 Three Brides, The. By Char- 
lotte M. Yonge 10 

276 Under the Lilies and Roses. 

By Florence Marryat (Mrs. 
Francis Lean) 1C 

277 Surgeon’s Daughters, The, by 


Mrs. Henry Wood. A Man of 
His Word, by W. E. Norris... 10 

278 For Life and Love. By Alison. 10 

279 Rattlin, the Reefer. By Captain 

Marryat 20 

280 Omnia Vanitas. A Tale of So- 

ciety. By Mrs. Forrester 10 

281 Squire’s Legacy, The. By Maiy 

Cecil Hay 20 

282 Donal Grant, By George Mac- 

Donald 20 

283 Sin of a Lifetime, The. By 

Charlotte M. Bi’aeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

284 Doris, By “ The Duchess ” — 10 

285 Gambler’s Wife, The 20 

286 Deldee ; or, The Iron Hand. By 

F. Warden 20 

287 At War With Herself. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“Dora Thorne” 10 

923 At War With Herself. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme. (Large type 
edition) 20 

288 From Gloom to Sunlight; or 

From Out the Gloom, By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “Dora Thorne” W 

955 From Gloom to Sunlight; or, 
From Out the Gloom. By 
Clwirlotte M. Braeme. (Large 
type edition) 20 

289 John Bull’s Neighbor in Her 

True Light. By a “Brutal 

10 

290 Nora’s Love Test. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

291 Love’s Warfare. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne” 10 

292 Golden Heart, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne ” 10 

293 Shadow of a Sin, The. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 10 


6 


THE BEASIDE i^IBR ARY— Pocket Edition. 


948 Shadow of a Sin, The. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme. (Large type 

edition) 20 

294 Hilda; or, The False Vow. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme 10 

294 Lady Hutton’s Ward. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme 10 

928 Hilda; or, The False Vow. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme. (Large 

type) 20 

928 Lady Hutton’s Ward. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme. (Large type) 20 

295 Woman’s War, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme 10 

952 Woman’s War, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme. (Large type 
edition) 20 

296 Rose in Thorns, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne’’ 10 

297 Hilary’s Folly; or. Her Mar- 

riage Vow. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne’’ 10 

953 Hilary’s Folly; or. Her Mar- 

riage Vow. By Charlotte DI. 
Braeme. (Large type edition) 20 


298 Mitchelhurst Place. By Marga- 


ret Veley 10 

299 Fatal Lilies, The. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 10 

300 A Gilded Sin, and A Bridge of 

Love. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 10 

301 Dark Days. By Hugh Conway 10 

302 Blatchford Bequest, The. By 

Hugh Conway, author of 
“Called Back” 10 

303 lugledew House. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne” 10 

804 In Cupid’s Net. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 10 

305 Dead Heart, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 10 

306 Golden Dawn, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne” 10 

307 Two Kisses. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 10 

308 Beyond Pardon. C. M. Braeme 20 

309 Pathfinder, The. By J. Feni- 

more Cooper 20 

310 Prairie, The. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper 20 

311 Two Years Before the Mast. 

By R. H. Dana, Jr 20 

312 Week in Killarney, A. By “ The 

Duchess ” 10 

313 Lover’s Creed, The, By Mrs. 

Cashel-Hoey 20 

814 Peril. By Jessie Fothergill ... 20 

815 Mistletoe Bough, The. Edited 

by Miss M. E. Braddon 20 


316 Sworn to Silence; or. Aline 

Rdtiney’s Secret. By Mrs. 
Alex, McVeigh Miller 20 

317 By Mead and Stream. By Chas. 

Gibbon 20 

318 Pioneers, The ; or. The Sources 

of the Susquehanna. By J. 
Fenimore Cooper 20 

319 Face to Face : A Fact in Seven 

Fables. By R. E. Francillon. 10 

320 Bit of Human Nature, A, By 

David Christie Murray 10 

321 Prodigals, Tlie: And Their In- 

heritance. By Mrs. Oliphant. 10 

322 Woman’s Love-Story, A. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, 'author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

323 Willful Maid, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

324 In Luck at Last. By Walter 

Besant 10 

325 Portent, The. By George Mac- 

donald 10 

326 Phantasies. A Faerie Romance 

for Men and Women. By 
George Macdonald 10 

327 Raymond’s Atonement, (From 

the German of E. Werner.) 

By Christina Tyrrell 20 

328 Babiole, the Pi-etty Milliner. 

(Translated from the French 
of Fortune Du Boisgobey.) 
First half 20 

328 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. 

(Translated from the French 
of Fortune Du Boisgobey.) 
Second half 20 

329 Polish Jew, The. (Translated 

from the French by Caroline 
A. Merighi.) By Erckmann- 
Chatrian 10 

330 May Blossom : or. Between Two 

Loves. By Margaret Lee 20 

331 Gerald. By Eleanor C. Price.. 20 


332 Judith Wynne. By author of 

“ Lady Lovelace ” 20 

333 Frank Fairlegh; or. Scenes 

From the Life of a Private 
Pupil. By Frank E. Smedley 20 

334 Marriage of Convenience, A. 

By Harriett Jay 10 

335 White Witch, The. A Novel. . . 20 

336 Philistia, By Cecil Power 20 

337 Memoirs and Resolutions of 

Adam Graeme of Mossgray, 
including some Chronicles of 
the Borough of Fendie. By 
Mrs. Oliphant 20 

338 Family Difficulty, The, By Sa- 

rah Doudney 10 

339 Mrs. Vereker’s Courier Maid. 

By Mrs. Alexander 10 

340 Under Which King? By Comp- 

ton Reade 20 

341 Madolin Rivers; or. The Little 

Beauty of Red Oak Seminary. 

By Laura Jean Libbey 20 

342 Baby, The. By “ The Duchess ” 10 


THE SEASIDE LIBRAHY — Pocket Edition. 


343 Talk of the Town, The. By 

James Payn 20 

344 “ Wearing of the Green, The.’’ 

By Basil 20 

345 Madam. By Mrs. Oliphant. 20 

346 Tumbledown Farm. By Alan 

Muir - 20 

847 As Avon Flows. By Henry Scott 

Vince 20 

848 From Post to Finish. A Racing 

Romance. By Hawley Smart 20 
349 Two Admirals, The. A Tale of 
the Sea. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper 20 

850 Diana of the Ci’ossways. By 
George Meredith 10 

351 House on the Moor, The. By 

Mrs. Oliphant 20 

352 At Any Cost. By Edw. Garrett 10 

353 Black Dwarf, The. By Sir 

Walter Scott 20 

354 Lottery of Life, The. A Story 

of New York Twenty Years 


Ago. By John Brougham... 20 

355 That Terrible Man. By W. E. 

Norris 10 

356 Good Hater, A. By Frederick 

Boyle 20 

357 John. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

358 Within the Clasp. By J. Ber- 

wick Harwood 20 

359 Water- Witch, The. By J. Feni- 

more Cooper 20 

360 Ropes of Sand. By R. E. Francil- 

lon 20 

361 Red Rover, The. A Tale of the 

Sea. By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

362 Bride of Lammermoor, The. 

By Sir Walter Scott 20 

363 Surgeon’s Daughter, The. By 

Sir Walter Scott 10 

364 Castle Dangerous. By Sir Wal- 

ter Scott 10 

365 George Christy; or. The Fort- 

unes of a Minstrel. By Tony 
Pastor *. 20 

366 Mysterious Hunter, The; or. 

The Man of Death. By Capt. 

L. C. Carleton 20 


367 Tie and Trick. By Hawley Smart 20 

368 Southern Star, The ; or. The Dia- 

mond Land. B.y Jules Verne 20 

369 Miss Bretherton. By Mrs. Hum- 


phry Ward 10 

370 Lucy Crofton. By Mrs. Oliphant 10 

371 Margaret Maitland. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

372 Phyllis’ Probation. By the au- 

thor of “ His Welded Wife 10 

373 Wing-and-Wing. By J. Feni- 

more Cooper 20 

374 Dead Man’s Secret, The ; or. The 
• Adventures of a Medical Stu- 
dent. By Dr. Jupiter Paeon. . 20 

375 Ride to Khiva, A. By Captain 

Fred Burnaby, of the Royal 


Horse Guards * • • • • 20 


876 Crime of Christmas Day, The. 

By the author of “ My Ducatg 
and My Daughter ” 10 

377 Magdalen Hepburn : A Story "of 

the Scottish Reformation. By 
Mrs. Oliphant 20 

378 Homeward Bound; or. The 

Chase. By J. F. Cooper.... 20 
3(9 Home as Found. (Sequel to 
“Homeward Bound.”) ByJ. 
Fenimore Cooper 20 

380 Wyandotte; or. The Hutted 

Knoll. ByJ. Fenimore Cooper 20i 

381 Red Cardinal, Tlie. By Frances ' 

Elliot 10 

382 Three* Sisters; or. Sketches of 

a Highly Original Family. 

By Elsa D’Esterre-Keeling. . . 10 

383 Introduced to Society. By Ham- 


ilton Aid6 10 

384 On Horseback Through Asia 

Minor. By Captain Fred Bur- 
„ naby. . . 20 

385 Headsman, The; or. The Ab- 

baye des Vignerons. By J. 
Fenimore Cooper 20 

386 Led Astray; or, “La Petite 

Comtesse.” Octave Feuillet. 10 

387 Secret of the Cliffs, The. By 

Charlotte French 20 


388 Addie’s Husband ; or. Through 

Clouds to Sunshine. By the 
author of “ Love or Lands?”. 10 

389 Ichabod. A Portrait. By Bertha 

Thomas 10 

390 Mildred Ti’evanion. By “The 

Duchess ” 10 

391 Heart of Mid-Lothian, The. By 

Sir Walter Scott 20 

392 Peveril of the Peak. By Sir 

Walter Scott 20 

393 Pirate, The. By Sir Walter Scott 20 

394 Bravo, The. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper 20 

395 Archipelago on Fire, The. By 

Jules Verne Iv) 

396 Robert Ord’s Atonement. By 

Rosa Nouchette Carey 20 

397 Lionel Lincoln ; or, The Leaguer 

of Boston. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper 20 

398 Matt: A Tale of a Caravan. 

By Robert Buchanan 10 

399 Miss Brown. By Vernon Lee. . 20 

400 Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish, The. 

By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

401 Waverley. By Sir Walter Scott 20 

402 Lilliesleaf; or. Passages in the 

Life of Mrs. Margaret Mait- 


land of Sunnyside. By Mrs. 
Oliphant 20 

403 An English Squire. By C. R. 

Coleridge,. 20 

404 In Durance Vile, and Other 

Stories. By “ The Duchess ” 10 

405 My Friends and I. Edited b,v 

Julian Sturgis 10 

406 Merchant’s Clerk, The. By Sam- 

uel Warren 10 


8 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


407 Tylney Hall. Bj' Thomas Hood 20 

408 Lester’s Secret. By Mary Cecil 

Hay 20 

409 Roy’s Wife. By G. J. Whyte- 

Melville 20 

410 Old Lady Mary. By Mrs. Oli- 

phant *. 10 

411 Bitter Atonement, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

412 Some One Else. By B. M. Croker 20 

413 Afloat and Ashore. By J. Fen- 

imore Cooper 20 

414 Miles Wallingford. (Sequel to 

“ Afloat and Ashore.”) By J. 
Fenimore Cooper 20 

415 Ways of the Hour, The. By J. 

Fenimore Cooper 20 

416 Jack Tier ; or. The Florida Reef. 

By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

417 Fair Maid of Perth, The; or, 

St. Valentine’s Da}’. By Sir 
Walter Scott 20 

418 St. Ronan’s Well. By Sir Walter 

Scott 20 

419 Chainbearer, The; or. The Lit- 

tlepage Manuscripts. By J. 
Fenimore Cooper 20 

420 Satanstoe; or. The Littlepage 

Manuscripts. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper 20 


421 Redskins, The; or, Indian and 

Injin. Being the conclusion 
of the Littlepage Manuscripts. 

By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

422 Precaution. By J. Fenimore 


Cooper 20 

423 Sea Lions, The; or. The Lost 

Sealers. By J. F. Cooper. . . 20 

424 Mercedes of Castile; or, Tne 

Voyage to Cathay. By J. Fen- 
imore Cooper 20 

425 Oak-Openings, The; or. The 

Bee-Hunter. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper 20 

426 Venus's Doves. By Ida Ash- 

worth Taylor 20 

427 Remarkable History of Sir 

Thomas Upmore, Bart., M.P., 
The. Formerly known as 
“ Tommy Upmore.” By R. 

D. Blackmore 20 

428 Z6ro: A Story of Monte-Cai’lo. 

By Mrs. Campbell-Praed 10 


429 Boulderstone ; or. New Men and 

Old Populations. By W. Sime 10 

430 Bitter Reckoning, A. By the au- 

thor of ” By Crooked Paths ” 10 

431 Monikins, The. By J. Fenimore 


Cooper 20 

432 Witch’s Head, The. By H. 
Rider Haggard 20 

133 My Sister Kate. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of ” Dora 
Thorne” 10 

134 Wyllard’s Weird. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

135 Klytia : A Story of Heidelberg 


Castle. By George Tayio£i^20 


436 Stella. By Fanny Lewald 20 

437 Life and Adventures of Martin 

Cliuzzlewit. By Charles Dick- 
ens. First half 20 

437 Life and Adventures of Martin 

Chuzzlewit. By Charles Dick- 
• ens. SecondLhalf 20 

438 Found Out. By Helen B. 

Mathers 10 

439 Great Expectations. By Charles 

Dickens 20 

440 Mrs. Lirriper’s Lodgings. By 

Charles Dickens li 

441 Sea Change, A. By Flora L. 

Shaw 20 

442 Ranthorpe. By George Henry 

Lewes 20 

443 Bachelor of the Albany, The. . . 10 

444 Heart of Jane Warner, The. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

445 Shadow of a Crime, The. By 

Hall Caine 20 

446 Dame Durden. By “Rita”... 20 

447 American Notes. By Charles 

Dickens 20 

448 Pictures From Italy, and The 

Mudfog Papers, &c. By Chas. 
Dickens 20 

449 Peeress and Player. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 20 

450 Godfrey Helstone. By Georgi- 

ana M. Craik 20 

451 Blarket Harborough, and Inside 

the Bar. G. J. Whyte-Melville 20 

452 In the West Countrie. By May 

Crommelin 20 

453 Lottery Ticket, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey 20 

454 Mystery of Edwin Drood, The. 

By Chas. Dickens 20 

455 Lazarus in London. By F. W. 

Robinson 20 

456 Sketches by Boz. Illustrative 

of Every-day Life and Every- 
day People. By Charles Dick- 
ens 20 


457 Russians at the Gates of Herat, 

The. By Charles Marvin. ... 10 

458 Week of Passion, A; or. The 

Dilemma of Mr. George Bar- 
ton the V ounger. By Edw’ard 


Jenkins 20 

459 Woman's Temptation, A. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme. (Large 

type edition) 20 

951 Woman’s Temptation, A. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

460 Under a Shadow. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

461 His Wedded Wife. By author 

of “ A Fatal Dower ” 20 

462 Alice’s Adventures in Wonder- 

land. By Lewis Carroll. With 
forty -two illustrations by 
John Tenniel 20 

463 Redgauntlet. By Sir Walter 

Scott 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition, 


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164 Newcomes, The. Bv William 
Makepeace Thackeray. Part 


491 


no 


465 


466 


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20 


10 


20 


20 


464 Newcomes, The. By William 
Makepeace Thackeray. Part 

Earl’s Atonement, The. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 

Between Two Loves. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

467 Struggle for a Ring, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 

468 Fortunes, Good and Bad, of a 

Sewing-Girl, The. By Char- 
lotte M. Stanley 

469 Lady Darner’s Secret: or, A 

Guiding Star. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne” 20 

Evelyn’s Folly. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne ” 

Thrown on the World. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“ Dora Thorne ” 

Wise Women of Inverness, 
The. By Wm. Black 10 

473 Lost Son, A. By Mary Linskill. 10 

474 Serapis. By George Ebers 20 

475 Prima Donna’s Husband, The. 20 

By F. Du Boisgobey 

Between Two Sins; or, Married 
in Haste. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne ” 10 

Affinities. A Romance of To- 
day. By Mrs. Campbell-Praed 
478 Diavola; or. Nobody’s Daugh- 
ter. By Miss M. E. Braddon. 

Part I...' 

478 Diavola; or. Nobody’s Daugh- 
ter. By Miss M. E. Braddon. 

Part II 

Louisa. By Katharine S. Mac- 

quoid 20 

Married in Haste. Edited by 

Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

House That Jack Built, The. 

By Alison 10 

482 Vagrant Wife, A. By F. Warden 20 
i83 Betwixt My Love and Me. By 
the author of “A Golden Bar ” 

484 Although He Was a Lord, and 

Other Tales. Mrs. Forrester. 

485 Tinted Vapours. By J. Maclaren 

Cobban . 10 

Dick’s Sweetheart. By “The 

Duchess ” 20 

Put to the Test. Edited by 

Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

Joshua Haggard’s Daughter. 

By Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

489 Rupert Godwin. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

490 Second Life, A. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander 20 


Society in London. By a For- 
eign Resident 10 

492 Mirnon ; or. Booties’ Baby. By 
J. S. Winter. Illustrated.... 10 

493 Colonel Enderby’s Wife. By 

Lucas Malet 20 

494 Maiden All Forlorn, A, and Bar- 
bara. By “ The Duchess ”... 10 

495 Mount Royal. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

496 Only a Woman. Edited by Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

497 Lady’s Mile, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 90 

20 I 498 Only a Clod. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

Cloven Foot, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 


499 


470 


471 


472 


476 


477 


479 

480 

481 


10 


20 


20 


486 

487 

488 


10 
10 I 517 


518 

519 


500 Adrian Vidal. By W'. E. Norris 20 

501 Mr. Butler’s Ward. By F. Mabel 

Robinson 20 

502 Carriston’s Gift. By Hugh 

Conway, author of “Called 
Back ” 10 

503 Tinted Venus, The. By F. Anstey 10 

504 Curly: An Actor’s Story. By 
John Coleman. Illustrated. 10 

505 Society of London, The. By 

Count Paul Vasili 10 

506 Lady Lovelace. By the author 

of “Judith Wynne” 20 

507 Chronicles of the Canongate, 

and Other Stories. By Sir 
Walter Scott 10 

508 Unholy Wish, The. By Mrs. 

Henry Wood 10 

509 Nell Haffenden. By Tighe Hop- 
kins 20 

510 Mad Love, A. By the author of 

“Lover and Lord” 10 

511 Strange World, A. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

512 Waters of Hercules, The 20 

513 Helen Whitney’s Wedding, and 

Other Tales. By Mrs. Henry 
Wood 10 

514 Mystery of Jessy Page, The, 

and Other Tales. By Mrs. 
Henry Wood 10 

515 Sir Jasper’s Tenant. By Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

516 Put Asunder; or. Lady Castle- 

maine’s Divorce. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

Passive Crime, A, and Other 
Stories. By “The Duchess ” 10 

Hidden Sin, The. A Novel 20 

James Gordon’s Wife, A Novel 20 

520 She's All the World to Me. By 

Hall Caine 10 

521 Entangled. By E. Fairfax 

Byrrue 20 

522 Zig-Zag, the Clown; or, The 

Steel Gauntlets. By F. Du 
Boisgobey. 20 

523 Consequences of a Duel, The. 

QSf Du Boisgobey 20 


10 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


624 Strangers and Pilgrims. By 


Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

625 Paul Vargas, and Other Stories. 

By Hugh Conway, author of 

“Called Back” 10 

526 Madame De Presnel. By E. 

Frances Poynter 20 

627 Days of My Life. The. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

528 At His Gates. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

629 Doctor’s Wife, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

630 Pair of Blue Eyes, A. By Thom- 

as Hardy 20 


531 Prime Minister, The. By An- 
thony Trollope. First Half.. 20 
531 Prime Minister, The. By An- 


thony Trollope. Second Half 20 

532 Arden Court. Barbara Graham 20 

533 Hazel Kirke. By Marie Walsh 20 

534 Jack. By Alphonse Daudet 20 

535 Henrietta’s Wish; or. Domi- 

neering. By Charlotte M. 
Yonge 10 

536 Dissolving Views. By Mrs. An- 

drew Lang 10 

637 Piccadilly. Laurence Oliphant 10 

538 Fair Country Maid, A. By E. 

Fairfax Byrrne 20 

539 Silvermead. By Jean Middle- 

mas 20 

540 At a High Price. By E. Werner 20 

541 “ As it Fell Upon a Day,” by 

“The Duchess,” and Uncle 
Jack, by Walter Besant 10 

542 Fenton’s Quest. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

543 Family Affair, A. By Hugh 

Conway, author of “ Called 
Back” 20 

544 Cut by the County; or, Grace 

Darnel. By Miss M. E. Brad- 
don 10 

645 Vida’s Story. By author of 

“ Guilty Without Crime ” 10 

646 Mrs. Keith’s Crime 10 

547 Coquette’s Conquest, A. By 

Basil 20- 

548 Fatal Marriage, A, and The 

Shadow in the Corner. By 
Miss M. E. Braddon 10 

549 Dudley Carleon ; or, The Broth- 

er’s Secret, and George Caul- 
field’s Journey. By Miss M. E. 
Braddon 10 

550 Struck Down. By Hawley Smart 10 

551 Barbara Heathcote’s Trial. By 

Rosa N. Carey. 2 parts, each 20 

652 Hostages to Fortune. By Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

653 Birds of Prey. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

554 Charlotte’s Inheritance. (A Se- 
quel to “ Birds of Prey.”) By 
Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

655 Cara Roma. By Miss Grant 20 

566 Prince of Darkness, A. By F. 

Warden SO 


557 To the Bitter End. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

558 Poverty Corner. By G. ManvUle 

Fenn 20 

559 Taken at the Flood. By Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

560 Asphodel. By Miss M. E. Brad- 

don 20 

561 Just As I Am ; or, A Living Lie. 

By Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

562 Lewis Arundel; or. The Rail- 

road of Life. By Frank E. 
Smedley 20 

563 Two Sides of the Shield, The. 

By Charlotte M. Yonge 20 

564 At Bay. By Mrs. Alexander. . . 10 

565 No Medium. By Annie Thomas 10 

566 Royal Highlanders, The; or, 

The Black Watch in Egypt. 

By James Grant 20 

567 Dead Men’s Shoes. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

568 Perpetual Curate, The. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

569 Harry Muir. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

570 John Marchmont’s Legacy. By 

Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

571 Paul Carew’s Story. By Alice 

Corny ns Carr 10 


572 Healey. By Jessie Fothergill. 20 

573 Love’s Harvest. B. L. Farjeon 20 

574 Nabob, The: A Story of Paris- 

ian Life and Manners. By Al- 


phonse Daudet 20 

575 Finger of Fate, The. By Cap- 

tain Mayne Reid 20 

576 Her Martyrdom. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

577 In Peril and Privation. By 

James Payn 10 


578 Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 

Verne. (Illustrated.) Parti. 10 
578 Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 

Verne. (Illustrated.) Part II 10 

578 Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 

Verne. (Illustrated.) Part III 10 

579 Flower of Doom, The, and 

Other Stories. By M. Betham- 


Edwards 10 

580 Red Route, The. By William 

Si me 20 

581 Betrothed, The. (I Promessi 

Sposi,) Alessandro Manzoni. 20 

582 Lucia, Hugh and Another. By 

Mrs. J. H. Needell 20 

683 Victory Deane. By Cecil Griffith 20 

584 Mixed Motives 10 

585 Drawn Game. A. By Basil 20 

586 “ For Percival.” By Margaret 

Veley .... 20 

587 Parson o’ Dumford, The. By 

G. Manville Fenn 20 

588 Cherry. By the author of “A 

Great Mistake” 10 

589 Luck of the Darrells, The. By 

James Payn 20 

590 Courting of Mary Smith, The. 

By F. W. Robinson 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBEAIIY — Pocxet Edition. 


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591 Queen of Hearts, The. By Wil- 


kie Collins 20 

592 Strange Voyage, A. By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

593 Berna Boyle. By Mrs. J. H. 

Riddell 20 

594 Doctor Jacob. By Miss Betham- 

Ed wards 20 

595 North Country Maid, A. By 

Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron 20 

596 My Ducats and My Daughter. 

By the author of “ The Crime 
of Christmas Day” 20 

597 Haco the Dreamer. By William 

Sime 10 

598 Corinna. By “Rita” 10 

599 Lancelot Ward, M.P. By George 

Temple 10 

600 Houp-La. By John Strange 

Winter. (Illustrated) 10 

601 Slings and Arrows, and other 

Stories. By Hugh Conway, 
author of “Called Back”... 10 

602 Camiola: A Girl With a Fortune. 

By Justin McCarthy 20 

603 Agnes. By Mrs. Oliphant. First 

Half 20 

603 Agnes. By Mrs. Oliphant. Sec- 

ond Half 20 

604 Innocent: A Tale of Modern 

Life. By Mrs. Oliphant. First 
Half 20 

604 Innocent: A Tale of Modern 

Life. By Mrs. Oliphant. Sec- 
ond Half 20 

605 Ombra. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

606 Mrs. Hollyer. By Georgiana M. 

Craik 20 


607 Self-Doomed. By B. L. Farjeon 10 

608 For Lilias. By Rosa Noucliette 

Carey. In Two Parts, each . . 20 

609 Dark House, The: A Knot Un- 

raveled. By G. Manville Fenn 10 

610 Story of Dorothy Grape, The, 

and Other Tales. By Mrs. 
Henry Wood 10 

611 Babylon. By Cecil Power 20 

612 My Wife’s Niece. By the author 

of “Doctor E^dith Romnev ”. 20 

613 Ghost’s Touch, The. By Wilkie 

Collins 40 

614 No. 99. By Arthur Griffiths... 10 

615 Mary Anerley. By R. D. Black- 

more 20 

616 Sacred Nugget, The. By B. L. 

Farjeon 20 

617 Like Diau’s Kiss. By “ Rita ”. 20 

618 Mistletoe Bough, The. Clirist- 

mas, 1885. Edited by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

619 Joy; or. The Light of Cold- 

Home Ford. By May Crom- 
melin 20 

620 Between the Heather and the 

Northern Sea. By M. Linskill 20 

621 Warden, The. By Anthony 

Trollope 4o 

622 Harry Heathcote of Gangoil. By 

Anthony Trollope 10 


623 My Lady’s Money. By Wilkie 

Collins 10 

624 Primus in ludis. By M. J. Col- 

quhoun lo 

625 Erema; or. My Father’s Sin. 

By R. D. Blackmore 20 

626 Fair 3Iystery, A ; or, 'I’he Perils 

of Beauty. By Charlotte M. 
Braerne 20 

627 White Heather. By Wm. Black 20 

628 Wedded Hands. By the author 

of “ My Lady’s Folly ” 20 

629 Cripps, the Carrier. By R. D. 

Blackmore 20 

630 Cradock Nowell. By R. D. 

Blackmore. First half 20 

630 Cradock Nowell. By R. I). 

Blackmore. Second half 20 

631 Christow'ell. By R. D. Blackmore 20 

632 Clara Vaughan. By R. D. Black- 


more 20 

633 Maid of Sker, The. By R. D. 
Blackmore. 1st half 20 

633 Maid of Sker, The. By R. D. 

Blackmore. 2d half 20 

634 Unforeseen, The. By Alice 

O’Hanlon 20 

635 Murder or Manslaughter? By 

Helen B. Mathers 10 

636 Alice Lorraine. By R. D. Black- 

more. 1st half 20 

636 Alice liOrraine. By R. D. Black- 

more. 2d half 20 

637 W’hat’s His Offence? By author 

of “The Two Miss Flemings ” 20 

638 In Quarters with the 25th (The 

Black Horse) Dragoons. By 


J. &. Winter 10 

639 Othmar. “Ouida.” 2 parts, each 20 

640 Nuttie’s Father. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

641 Rabbi’s Spell, The. By Stuart 

C. Cumberland 10 

642 Britta. By George Temple 10 

643 Sketch-book of Geoffrey Cray- 

on, Gent, The. By Washing- 
ton Irving 20 

644 Girton Girl, A. By Mrs. Annie 

Edwards 20 

645 Mrs. Smith of Longmains. By 

Rhoda Broughton 10 

646 Master of the Mine, The. By 

Robert Buchanan 20 

647 Goblin Gold. By May Crom- 

melin 10 

648 Angel of the Bells, The. By F. 

Du Boisgobey 20 

649 Cradle and Spade. By William 

Sime 20 


650 Alice; or. The Mysteries. (A Se- 
quel to “ Ernest Maltravers.”) 


By Sir E. Bulwer Lytton 20 

651 “ Self or Bearer.” By Walter 

Besant 10 

652 Lady With the Rubies, The. By 

E. Marlitt 20 

653 Barren Title, A. T. W. Speight 10 

654 “ Us.” An Old-fashioned Story. 

By Mrs. Moles worth 10 


12 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


655 Open Door, The. By Mi*s. Oli- 

pliant 10 

656 Golden Flood, The. By R. E. 

Francillon and Wm. Senior. . 10 

657 Christmas Angel. By B. L. Far- 

jeon 10 

658 History of a Week, The. By 

Mrs. L. B. Walford 10 

659 Waif of the “ Cynthia,” The. 

By Jules Verne 20 

660 Scottish Chiefs, The. By Miss 

Jane Porter. 1st half 20 

660 Scottish Chiefs, The. By Miss 

Jane Porter. 2d half 20 

661 Rainbow Gold. By David Chris- 

tie Murray 20 

662 Mystery of Allan Grale, The. By 

Isabella Fyvie Mayo 20 

663 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover 20 

664 Rory O'More. By Samuel Lover 20 

665 Dove in the Eagle’s Nest, The. 

By Charlotte M. Yonge 20 

666 My Young Alcides. By Char- 

lotte M. Yonge 20 

667 Golden Lion of Granpere, The. 

By Anthony Trollope 20 

668 Half-Way. An Anglo-French 

Romance 20 

669 Philosophy of Whist, The. By 

William Pole 20 

670 Rose and the Ring, The. By 

W. M. Thackeray. Illustrated 10 

671 Don Gesualdo. By“Ouida.”.. 10 

Tn TVTq v»i:krv\-iv^Q "Rxr i 


672 In Maremma. By “ Ouida.” 2d 

half 20 

673 Story of a Sin. By Helen B. 

Mathers 20 

674 First Person Singular. By Da- 

vid Christie Murray 20 

675 Mrs. Dymond. By Miss Thacke- 

ray 20 

676 Child’s History of England, A. 

By Charles Dickens 20 

677 Griselda. By the author of ” A 

Woman’s Love-Story” 20 

678 Dorothy’s Venture. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

679 Where Two Ways Meet. By 

Sarah Doudney 10 

68P Fast and Loose. By Arthur 
Griffiths 20 

681 Singer’s Story, A. By May 

Laffan 10 

682 In the IMiddle Watch. By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

683 Bachelor Vicar of Newforth, 

The. By Mrs. J. Harcourt-Roe 20 

684 Last Days at Apswich 10 

685 England under Gladstone. 1880 

—1885. By Justin H. McCar- . 

thy, M.P 20 

686 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and 

Mr. Hyde. By Robert Louis 

Stevenson 10 

t)87 Country Gentleman, A. By Mrs. 
Oliphant 20 


Man of Honor, A. By John 
Strange Winter. Illustrated. 10 
Heir Presumptive, The. By 


Florence Marry at 20 

Far From the Madding Crowd. 

By Thomas Hardy 20 

Valentine StrangQ. By David 

Christie Murray 20 

Mikado, The. and other Comic 
Operas. Written by W. S. 
Gilbert. Composed by Arthur 

Sullivan ’ 20 

Felix Holt, the Radical. By 

George Eliot 20 

John Maidment. By Julian 
Sturgis 20 

Hearts: Queen, Knave, and 
Deuce. By David Christie 

Murray 20 

Thaddeus of Warsaw. By Miss 

Jane Porter 20 

Pretty Jailer, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half.". 20 

Pretty Jailer, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

Life’s Atonement, A. By David 
Christie Murray 20 


Sculptor’s Daughter, The. By 
F. Du Boisgobey. 1st half ... 20 


F. Du Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

Ralph the Heir. By Anthony 

Trollope. First half 20 

Ralph the Heir. By Anthony 

Trollope. Second half 20 

Woman in White, The, Wilkie 
Collins. Illustrated. 1st half 20 
Woman in White, The. Wilkie 
Collins. Illustrated. 2d half 20 
Man and Wife. By Wilkie Col- 
lins. First half 20 

Man and Wife. By Wilkie Col- 
lins. Second half 20 

House Divided Against Itself, 

A. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

Prince Otto. By R. L. Steven- 
son 10 

Woman I Loved, The, and the 
Woman Who Loved Me, By 

Isa Blagden 10 

Crimson Stain, A. By Annie 
Bradshaw 10 


Silas Marner: The Weaver of 
Raveloe. By George Eliot. . . 10 

Ormond. By Mai ia Edgeworth 20 
Zenobia; or. The Fall of Pal- 
myra. By William Ware. 


Fir.st half 20 

Zenobia; or. The Fall of Pal- 
myra. By William Ware. 

Second half 10 

Greatest Heiress in England, 

The. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

Cardinal Sin, A. By Hugh Con- 
way, author of ” Called 

Back ” 20 

For Maimie’s Sake. By Grant 
Allen... 30 


688 

689 

690 

691 

692 

693 

694 

695 

696 

697 

697 

698 

699 

699 

700 

700 

701 

701 

702 

702 

703 

704 

705 

706 

707 

708 

709 

709 

710 

711 

712 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition. 


13 


VIS “ Cherry Ripe.” By Helen B. 
Mathers 

714 ’Twixt Love and Duty. By 

Tighe Hopkins 

715 I Have Lived and Loved. By 

Mrs. Forrester 

716 Victor and Vanquished. By 

Mary Cecil Hay 

717 Beau Tancrede; or, the Mar- 

riage Verdict. By Alexander 
Dumas 

718 Unfairly Won. By Mrs. Power 

O’Donoghue 

719 Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. 

By Lord Byron 

720 Paul Clifford. By Sir E. Bulwer 

Lytton, Bart 

721 Dolores. By Mrs. Forrester. . . 

722 What’s Mine’s Mine. By George 

Macdonald 

723 Mauleverer’s Millions. By T. 

Wemyss Reid 

724 My Lord and My Lady. By 

Mrs. Forrester 

725 My Ten Years’ Imprisonment. 

By Silvio Pellico 

726 My Hero. By Mrs. Forrester.. 

727 P air Women. By Mrs. Forrester 

728 Janet’s Repentance. By George 

Eliot 

729 Mignon. By Mrs. Forrester... 

730 Autobiography of Benjamin 

Franklin, The 

731 Bayou Bride, The. By Mrs. 

Mary E. Bryan 

732 From Olympus to Hades. By 

Mrs. Forrester 

733 Lady Branksmere. By “The 

Duchess” 

734 Viva. By Mrs. Forrester 

735 Until the Day Breaks. By 

Emily Spender 

736 Roy and Viola. Mrs. Forrester 

737 Aunt Rachel. By David Christie 

Murray 

738 In the Golden Days. By Edna 

Lyall 

739 Caged Lion, The. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 

740 Rhona. By Mrs. Forrester 

741 Heiress of Hilldrop, The; or. 

The Romance of a Young 
Girl. By Charlotte M. Braeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 

742 Love and Life. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 

743 Jack’s Courtship. By W. Clark 

Russell. 1st half 

743 Jack’s Courtship. By W. Clark 

Russell. 2d half 

744 Diana Carew; or. For a Wom- 

an’s Sake, By Mrs. Forrester 

745 For Another’s Sin ; or, A Strug- 

gle for Love. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 

746 Cavalry Life; or. Sketches and 

Stories in Barracks and Out. 
By J. S. Winter 


747 Our Sensation Novel. Edited 

by Justin H. McCarthy, M.P. 10 

748 HmTish: A Study. By the 

Hon. Emily Lawless 20 

749 Loi dVanecourt’s Daughter. By 

Mabel Collins 20 


750 An Old Story of My Farming 
Days. Fritz Reuter. 1st half 20 

750 An Old Story of My Farming 

Days. Fritz Reuter. 2d half 20 

751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 

gators. Jules Verne. 1st half 30 

751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 

gators. Jules Verne. 2d half 20 

752 Jackanapes, and Other Stories. 

By Juliana Horatio Ewing. . . 1C 

753 King Solomon’s Mines. By H. 


Rider Haggai'd 20 

754 How to be Happy Though Mar- 

ried. By a Graduate in the 
University of Matrimony 20 

755 Margery Daw. A Novel 20 

756 Strange Adventures of Captain 

Dangerous, The. By George 
Augustus Sala 20 

757 Love’s Martyr. By Laui’ence 

Alma Tadema 10 

758 “Good-bye, Sweetheart!” By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

759 In Shallow Waters. By Annie 

Armitt 20 

760 Aurelian; or, Rome in the Third 

Century. By William Ware. 20 

761 Will Weatherhelm, By William 

H. G. Kingston 20 

762 Impressions of Theophrastus 

Such. By George Eliot 10 

763 Midshipman, The, Marmaduke 

lilerry. Wm. H. G. Kingston . 20 

764 Evil Genius, The. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

765 Not Wisely, But Too Well. By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

766 No. XIII. ; or. The Story of the 

Lost Vestal. Emma Marshall 10 

767 Joan. By Rhoda Broughton. . 20 

768 Red as a Rose is She. By Rhoda 

Broughton 20 

769 Cometh Up as a Flower. By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

770 Castle of Otranto, The. By 

Horace Walpole 10 

771 Mental Struggle, A. By “ The 

Duchess ” 20 

772 Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood 

Trader. By R. M. Ballantyne 20 

773 Mark of Cain, The. By Andrew 

Lang 10 

774 Life and Travels of Mungo 

Park, The 10 

775 Three Clerks, The. By Anthony 

, Trollope 20 

776 P^re Goriot. By H. De Balzac 20 

777 Voyages and Travels of Sir 

John Maundeville, Kt., The. . 10 

778 Society’s Verdict. By the au- 

thor of “ My Marriage ” 20 

779 Doom ! An Atlantic Episode, 


By Justin H. McCarthy, M.P. 10 


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780 Rare Pale Margaret. By the au- 

thor of “What’s His Offence?” 20 

781 Secret Dispatch, The. By James 


Grant 10 

782 Closed Door, The. By F. Du 
Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

782 Closed Door, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

783 Chantry House. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

784 Two Miss Flemings, The. By au- 

thor of “What’s His Offence?” 20 

785 Haunted Chamber, The. By 

“ The Duchess ” 10 

788 Ethel Mildmay’s Follies. By 
author of “Petite’s Romance” 20 

787 Court Royal. A Story of Cross 

Currents. By S. Baring-Gould 20 

788 Absentee, The. An Irish Story. 

By Maria Edgeworth 20 


789 Through the Looking-Glass, 

and What Alice Found There. 

By Lewis CaiToll. With fifty 
illustrations by John Tenniel. 20 

790 Chaplet of Pearls, The ; or, The 

White and Black Ribaumonr. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 1st half 20 

790 Chaplet of Pearls, The; or, The 

White and Black Ribaumont. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 2d half 20 

791 Mayor of Casterbridge, The. By 


Thomas Hardy 20 

792 Set in Diamonds. By Charloite 

M. Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

793 Vivian Grey. By the Rt, Hon. 

Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of 
Beaconsfield. First half 20 

793 Vivian Grey. By the Rt. Hon. 

Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of 
Beaconsfield. Second half. .. 20 

794 Beaton’s Bargain. By Mrs. Al- 

exander 20 

795 Sam’s Sweetheart. By Helen 

B. Mathers 20 

796 In a Grass Country. By Mrs. 

H. Lovett Cameron 20 

797 Look Before You Leap. By 

Mrs. Alexander 20 

798 Fashion of this World, The. By 

Helen B. Mathers 10 

799 My Lady Green Sleeves. By 

Helen B. Mathers 20 


800 Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 
from the Life of a Spinster. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 1st half 20 

800 Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 

from the IJfe of a Spinster. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 2d half 20 

801 She Stoops to Conquer, and 

The Good-Natured Man. By 


Oliver Goldsmith 10 

802 Stern Chase, A. By Mrs.Cashel- 

Hoey 20 

803 Major Frank. By A. L. G. Bos- 

boom-Toussaint 20 

804 Living or Dead. By Hugh Con- 


way, author of “Called Back ” 20 


Freres, The. By Mrs, Alex- 
ander. 1st half 2fl 

Freres, The. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander. 2d half SO 

Her Dearest Foe, By Mrs. Alex- 
ander. First half 20 

Her Dearest Foe. * By Mrs. Alex- 
ander. Second half 20 

If Love Be Love. D. Cecil Gibbs 20 
King Arthur. Not a Love Story. 

By Miss Mulock 20 

Witness Mv Hand. By the au- 
thor of Lady Gwendolen’s 

Tryst ” 10 

Secret of Her Life, The. By Ed- 


Head Station, The. By Mrs. 

Campbell-Praed 20 

No Safnt. By Adeline Sergeant 20 
Army Society. Life in a Garri- 
son Town. By John Strange 

Winter 10 

Heritage of Langdale, The. By 

Mrs. Alexander 20 

Ralph Wilton’s Weird. By Mrs. 

Alexander 10 

Rogues and Vagabonds. By 
George R. Sims, author of 

“’Ostler Joe” 20 

Stabbed in the Dark. By Mrs. 

E. Lynn Linton 10 

Pluck. By John Strange Winter 10 
Fallen Idol, A. By F. Anstey. . . 20 
Doris’s Fortune. By Florence 

Warden 20 

World Between Them, The. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “Dora Thorne.” 20 

Passion Flower, A. A Novel ... 20 


Her Own Doing. W. E. Norris 10 
Master Passion, The, By Flor- 
ence Marryat 20 

Cynic Fortune. By D. Christie 

Murray 20 

Effle Ogilvie. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 
Prettiest Woman in Warsaw, 
The, By Mabel Collins 20 


Actor’s Ward, The. By the au- 
thor of “A Fatal Dower”... 20 
Bound by a Spell. Hugh Con- 
way, author of “Called Back” 20 
Pomegranate Seed. By the au- 
thor of “ The Two Miss Flem- 


ings,” etc 2C 

Kidnapped. By Robert Louis 

Stevenson 20 

Ticket No. “9672.” By Jules 

Verne. First half 10 

Ticket No. “9672.” By Jules 

Verne. Second half 10 

Ballroom Repentance, A. By 

Mrs. Annie Edwards 20 

Vivian the Beauty. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards 20 

Point of Honor, A. By Mrs. An - 
1U9 Edwards 20 


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THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


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837 Vagabond Heroine, A. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards 10 

838 Ought We to Visit Her? By 

Mrs. Annie Edwards 20 

839 Leah : A Woman of Fashion. 

By Mrs. Annie Edwai’ds 20 

840 One Thing Needful; or. The 

Penalty of Fate. B}’ Miss M. 


E. Braddon 20 

841 Jet: Her Face or Her Fortune? 

By Mrs. Annie Edwards 10 

842 Blue-Stocking, A. By Mrs. An- 

nie Edwards 10 

843 Archie Lovell. By Mrs. Annie 

Edwards 20 

844 Susan Fielding. By Mrs. Annie 

Edwards 20 

845 Philip Earnscliffe; or. The Mor- 

als of May Fair. By Mrs. 
Annie Edwards 20 

846 Sieven Lawrence. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards. 1st half 20 

846 Steven Lawrence. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards. 2d half 20 

847 Bad to Beat. By Hawley Smart 10 

848 My Friend Jim. By W. E. Norris 20 


849 Wicked Girl, A. Mary Cecil Hay 20 

850 Playwright’s Daughter, A. By 

Mrs. Annie Edwards 10 


851 Cry of Blood, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. First half 20 

851 Cry of Blood, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. Second half 20 

852 Under Five Lakes; or. The 

Cruise of the “ Destroyer.” 

By M. Quad 20 

853 True Magdalen, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
” Dora Thorne ” 20 


854 Woman’s Error, A. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 

855 Dynamiter, The. By Robert 

Louis Stevenson and Fanny 
Van de Grift Stevenson 

856 New Arabian Nights. By Rob- 

ert Louis Stevenson 

857 Kildee; or, The Sphinx of tiie 

Red House. By Mary E. 
Bryan. First half 

857 Kildee; or. The Sphinx of the 

Red House. By Mary E. 
Bryan. Second half 

858 Old Ma’m’selle’s Secret. By E. 

Marlitt 

859 Ottilie: An Eighteenth Century 

Idyl, and The Prince of the 100 
Soups. By Vernon Lee 

860 Her Lord and Master. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 

861 My Sister the Actress. By Flor- 

ence Marryat • 

862 Ugly Barrington. By The 

Duchess.” 

863 “My Own Child.” By Florence 

Marryat 

864 “ No Intentions.” By Florence 

Marryat 


20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

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865 Written in Fire. By Florence 

Marryat.^ 20 

866 Miss Harrington’s Husband ; or, 

Spiders of Society. By Flor- 
ence Marryat " 20 

867 Girls of Feversham, The. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

868 Petronel. By Florence Marryat 20 

869 Poison of Asps, The. By Flor- 

ence Marryat. 10 

870 Out of His Reckoning. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 10 

871 Bachelor’s Blunder, A. By W. 

E. Norris 20 

872 With Cupid’s Eyes. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 20 

873 Harvest of Wild Oats, A. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

874 House Part 5 % A. By “ Ouida ”. 10 

875 Lady Val worth’s Diamonds. By 

“The Duchess” 20 

876 Miguon’s Secret. J. S. Winter. 10 

877 Facing the Footlights. By Flor- 

ence Man’}' at 20 

878 Little Tu’pennj% By S. Baring- 

Gould 10 

879 Touchstone of Peril, The. By 

R. E. Forrest 20 

880 Son of His Father, The. By 

Mrs. Oliphant 20 

881 Mohawks. By Miss M. E. Brad- 

don. Ill Two Parts, each 20 

882 Children of Gibeon. By Walter 

Besant 20 

883 Once Again. By Mrs. Forrester 20 
8^ Voyage to the Cape, A. By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

885 Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Parti 20 

885 Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Part II 20 

885 Les Miserables. Victor Hugo. 

Partin 20 

886 Paston Carew, Millionaire and 

Miser. Mrs. E. Lynn Linton 20 

887 Modern Telemachus, A. By 

Charlotte M. Yonge 20 

888 Treasure Island. Robert Louis 

Stevenson 10 

889 An Inland Voyage. By Robert 

Louis Stevenson 10 

890 Mistletoe Bough, The. Christ- 


891 VeraNevill; or. Poor Wisdom’s 
Chance. By Mrs. H. Lovett 
Cameron 20 


892 That Winter Night; or. Love's 

Victory. Robert Buchanan. . 10 

893 Love’s Conflict. By Florence 

Marryat. First half 20 

893 Love’s Conflict. By Florence 

Marrvat. Second half 20 

894 Doctor Cupid. By Rhoda 

Broughton • • • "0 

895 Star and a Heart, A. By Flor- 

ence Marryat ; . 10 

896 Guilty River, The. By Wilkie 

Collins 80 


16 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


897 Ange; or, A Broken Blossom. 

By Florence Marryat 

898 Bulldog and Butterfly, and Julia 

and Her Romeo, by David 
Christie Murray, and Romeo 
and Juliet, by William Black. 

899 Little Stepson, A. By Florence 

Marr5^at 

900 Woman’s Wit, By. By Mrs. Al- 

exander 

901 Lucky Disappointment, A. By 

Florence Manyat 

902 Poor Gentleman, A. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 

903 Phyllida. By Florence Marryat 

904 Holy Rose, The. By Walter Be- 

sant 

905 Fair-Haired Alda, The. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 

90G World Went Very Well Then, 
The. By Walter Besant 

907 Bright Star of Life, The. By 

B. L. Far jeon 

908 Willful Young Woman, A 

909 Nine of Hearts, The. By B. L. 

Farjeon , 

910 She: A History of Adventure. 

By H. Rider Haggard 

911 Golden Bells: A Peal in Seven 

Changes. By R. E. Francillon 

912 Pure Gold, By Mrs. H. Lovett 

Cameron. Two Parts, each 

913 Silent Shore, TJie. By John 

Bloundelle- Burton 

914 Joan Wentworth. By Katha- 

rine S. Macquoid 

915 That Other Person. By Mrs. 

Alfred Hunt. Two Parts, each 

916 Golden Hope, The. By W. Clark 

Russell. 

917 Case of Reuben Malachi, The. 

By H. Sutherland Edwards.. 

918 Red Band, The. By F. Du Bois- 

gobey. First half 

918 Red Band, The. By F. Du Bois- 

gobey. Second half 

919 Locksley Hall Sixty Years Af- 

ter, etc. By Alfred, Lord 
Tennyson, P.L., D.C.L 

920 Child of the Revolution, A. By 

the author of “ Mademoiselle 
Mori ” 

921 Late Miss Hollingford, The. 

By Rosa Mulholland 

922 Marjorie. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne,’’ 

287 At War AVith Herself. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ’’ 

923 At AVarAVith Herself. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme. (Large type 
edition) 

924 ’Twixt Smile and Tear. (Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ’’ 

925 The Outsider. Hawley Smart. 

926 Springhaven. By R. D. Black- 

more. 1st and 2d half, each. 


927 Sweet Cymbeline. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 


“ Dora Thorne ’’ 20 

294 Hilda; or. The False Vow. By 
Charlotte M. Bqaeme 10 

928 Hilda; or. The False Vow. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.’’ (Large 
type edition) 20 

929 The Belle of Lynn; or. The 

Miller's Daughter. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ’’ 20 

930 Uncle Max. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey. In Two Parts, each. . 20 

931 Lady Diana’s Pride. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 


932 Queenie’s Whim. Rosa Nou- 

chette Carey. Two Parts.each 20 

933 A Hidden Terror. Mary Albert 20 
9-34 AA^ooed and Married. Rosa Nou- 
chette Carey. 2 parts, each. . 20 

935 Borderland. Jessie Fothergill. 20 

936 Nellie’s Memories. Rosa Nou- 

chette Carey. Two Parts,eaoh 20 

937 Cashel Byroirs Profession. By 

George Bernard Shaw 20 

938 Cranford. By Mrs. Gaskell 20 

939 AVhy Not? Florence Marryat . . 20 

940 The Alerry Men, and Other Tales 

and Fables. By Robert Louis 


Stevenson 20 

941 Jess. By H. Rider Haggard. . . 20 

942 Cash on Delivery. By F. Du 

Boisgobey 20 

943 AA'eavers and AVeft; or, “ Love 

that Hath Us in His Net.” By 
Miss BI. E. Braddon 20 

944 The Professor. By Charlotte 

Bront6 : 20 

945 The Trumpet-Major. Thomas 

Hardy 20 

946 The Dead Secret. By AA’^ilkie 

Collins 20 

947 Publicans and Sinners: or, Lu- 

cius Davoren. By Miss M. E. 
Braddon. First half 20 

947 Publicans and Sinners; or, Lu- 

cius Davoren. By Aliss M. E. 

Braddon. Second half 20 

293 The Shadow of a Sin. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 10 

948 The Shadow of a Sin. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne.” (Large type 
edition) 20 

949 Claribel’s Love Story; or. 

Love’s Hidden Depths. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 20 


25 Mrs. Geoffrey. By “ The Duch- 
ess.” (Large type edition). . . 20- 
950 Mrs. Geoffrey. “ The Duchess ” 10 
459 AA’oman’s Temptation, A By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.” (Large 
type edition). 20 


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THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Rocket Editiok. 


17 


951 Woman's Temptation, A. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

395 Woman’s War, A. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 10 

952 Woman’s War, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne.” (Large type edition) 20 

297 Hilary’s Folly; or. Her Mar- 
riage Vow. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of ” Dora 

Thorne” 10 

9!)& Hilary’s Folly; or. Her Mar- 
riage Vow. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of ” Dora 
Thorne.” (Large type edition) 20 

954 A Girl’s Heart. By the author 

of “Nobody’s Darling” 20 

288 From Gloom to Sunlight; or. 
From Out the Gloom. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

955 From Gloom to Sunlight; or. 

From Out the Gloom. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.” (Large 
type edition) 20 

956 Her Johnnie. By Violet Whyte 20 

957 The Woodlandei’s. By Thomas 

Hardy 20 

958 A Haunted Life; or. Her Terri- 

ble Sin. Charlotte M. Braeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”.. . 20 

959 Dawn. By H. Rider Haggard. 20 

960 Elizabeth’s Fortune. By Bertha 

Thomas 20 

961 Wee Wifle. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey 20 

962 Sabina Zembra. By William 

Black. First half 20 

962 Sabina Zembra. By William 

Black. Second half 20 

963 Worth Winning. By Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 20 

964 A Struggle for the Right; or. 

Tracking the Truth 20 

965 Periwinkle. By Arnold Gray.. 20 

966 He, by the author of “King 

Solomon’s Wives ” ; and A 
Siege Baby and Cliildliood’s 
Memories, by J. S. Winter — 20 
237 Repented at Leisure. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne.” (Large type 
edition) 20 

967 Repented at Leisure. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 10 

968 Blossom and Fruit; or, Ma- 

dame’s Ward. By the author 
of “ Wedded Hands ” 20 

969 The Mystery of Colde Fell ; or, 

Not Proven. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 20 ‘ 


970 King Solomon’s Wives; or. The 

Phantom Mines. By Hyder 
Ragged. (Illustrated) 20 

971 Garrison Gossip; Gathered in 

Blankharnpton. By John 
Strange Winter 20 

972 Gold Elsie. By E. Marlitt 20 

973 The Squire’s Darling. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

974 Strathmore; or. Wrought by 

His Own Hand. By “ Ouida.” 
First half 20 

974 Strathmore; or. Wrought by 

His Osvn Hand. By “ Ouida.” 
Second half 20 

975 A Dark Marriage Morn. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora 'I'horne ” 20 

976 Robur the Conqueror; or, A 

Trip Round I9ie World in a 
Flying Machine. Jules Verne 20 

977 The Haunted Hotel. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

978 Her Second Love. By Char- 

lotte J\I. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

979 The Count’s Secret. By Emile 

Gaboriau. Parti 20 

979 The Count’s Secret. By Emile 

Gaboriau. Part II 20 

980 To Call Her Mine. By Walter 

Besant 20 

981 Granville deVigne; or. Held in 

Bondage. By “Ouida.” 1st 
half 20 

981 Granville deVigne; or. Held in 

Bondage. By “Ouida.” 2d 

OQ 

982 The Duke’s Secret. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

983 Uarda. A Romance of Ancient 

Egypt. By George Ebers 20 

984 Her ' Own Sister. By E. S. 

Williamson 20 

985 On Her Wedding Morn, and 

The Mystery of the Holly- 
Tree. Charlotte M. Braeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”.. . . 20 

986 The Great Hesper. By Frank 

Barrett 20 

987 Brenda Yorke, and Upon the 

Waters. By Mary Cecil Hay. 20 

988 The Shattered Idol, and Letty 

Leigh. Charlotte M. Braeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 20 

989 Allan Quatermain. By H. Rider 

Haggard 20 

990 The Earl’s Error, and Arnold’s 

Promise. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

991 Mr. Midshipman Easy. By Cap- 

tain Marryat 20 

992 Blnrrying and Giving in Mar- 

I'iage. By Mrs. Mole.sworth... 20 

993 Fighting the Air. By Florence 

Marryat 20 


18 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


994 A Penniless Orphan, By W. 

Heimburpr 20 

995 An Unnatural Bondage, and 

That Beautiful Lady. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 20 

996 Idalia. By “ OuiJa.” 1st half, 20 

996 Idalia. By “Ouida.” 2d half. 20 

997 Forging the Fetters, and The 

Ajistralian Aunt. By Mrs. 
Alexander 20 


998 Open, Sesame I By Florence 

Marry at 20 

999 The Second Wife. E. Marlitt. 20 
1000 Puck. By “ Ouida.” 1st half 20 

1000 Puck. By “ Ouida.” 2d half. 20 

1001 Lady Adelaide’s Oath; or. The 

Castle s Heir. By Mrs, Henry 
Wood 20 

1002 Marriage at a Venture. By 

Emile Gaborian 20 

1003 Chandos. By “ Ouida.” 1st 

half 20 

1003 Chandos. By “ Ouida.” 2d 

half 20 

1004 Mad Dumai’e.sq. By Florence 

Marry at 20 

1005 99 Dark Street. F.W. Robinson 20 

1006 His Wife’s Judgment. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of ” Dora Thorne ” 20 

1007 Miss Gascoigne. By Mrs. J. 

H. Riddell 20 

1008 A Thorn in Her Heart. By 

Charlotte M, Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne” 20 

1009 In an Evil Hour, and Other 

Stories. By “ The Duchess ” 20 

1010 Golden Gates. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

1011 Texar’s Vengeance; or, North 

Versus South. Jules Verne. 
Part 1 20 

1011 Texar’s Vengeance : or. North 

Versus South. By Jules Verne 
Part II 20 

1012 A Nameless Sin. By Charlotte 

IM. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

1013 The Confessions of Gerald 

Estcourt, Florence Marryat. 20 

1014 A Mad Love. By Cliarlotte M. 

Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 20 

1015 A Thousand Francs Reward. 

By Emile Gaboriau 20 

1016 A Modern Circe. By “ The 

Duchess” 20 

1017 Tricotrin. TheStory of a Waif 

and Stray. “Ouida.” 1st half 20 

1017 Tricotrin. TheStory of a Waif 

and Stray. “ Ouida.” 2d half 20 

1018 Two Marriages. By Miss Mu- 

lock 20 

1019 Major and Minor. By W. E. 

Norris. 1st half 20 

1019 Major and Minor. By W. E. 
Norris, half 20 


1020 Michael Strogoff; or. The Cou- 

rier of the Czar, Jules Verne 20 

1021 The Heir to Ashley, and The 

Red -Court Farm. By Mrs. 
Henry Wood 20 

1022 Driven to Bay. By Florence 

Mhrryat 20 

1023 Next of Kin— Wanted. By M. 

Betham-Edwards 20 

1024 Under the Storm; or. Stead- 

fast’s Charge. By Charlotte 
M. Yonge 20 

1025 Daisy’s Dilemma, By Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 20 

1026 A Dark Inheritance. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

1027 A Life’s Secret. By Mrs. Henry 

Wood 20 

1028 A Devout Lover; or, A Wasted 

Love, By Mrs. H. Lovett Cam- 
eron 20 

1029 Armadale. By Wilkie Collins. 

1st half 20 

1029 Armadale. By Wilkie Collins. 

2d half 20 

1030 The iVIistress of Ibichstein. By 

Fr. Henkel 20 

1031 Irene’s Vow. By Charlotte M. 

Bi’aeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

1032 Mignon’s Husband. By John 

Strange Winter 20 

1033 Esther: A Story for Girls. By 

Rosa Nouchelte Carey 20 

1034 The Silence of Dean Maitland. 

By Maxwell Gray 20 

1035 The Duchess, By “ The Duch- 

ess” 20 

1036 Like and Unlike. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

1037 Scheherazade: A London 

Nights Entertainment. By 
Florence Warden 20 

1038 Mistress and Maid. By Miss 

Mulock 20 

1039 Driver Dallas. By John Strange 

Winter 10 

1040 Clarissa’s Ordeal. By the au- 

thor of “A Great Mistake.” 
First half ... 20 

1040 Clarissa’s Ordeal. By the au- 

thor of “ A Great Mistake.” 
Second half 20 

1041 Home Again. By George Mac- 

donald 20 

1042 Lady Grace.- Mrs Henry Wood 20 

1043 Faust. By Goethe 20 

1044 The Frozen Pirate. By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

1045 The 13th Hussars. By Emile 

Gaboriau 20 

1046 Jessie. By the author of “ Ad- 

die’s Husband ” 20 

1047 Marvel'. By “The Duchess”.. 20 

1048 The Wreck of the “Grosvenor.” 

By W. Clark Russell 20 

1049 A Tale of Three Ijions. and On 
Going Back. H. Rider Haggard 20 


THE SEASEDE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition. 19 


1050 The Tour of the World in 80 

Days. By Jules Verne 20 

1051 The Misadventures of John 

Nicholson. By Robert Louis 
Stevenson 10 

1052 Siena’s Sweetheart. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

1053 Younpr Mrs. Jardine. By Miss 

Mulock 20 

1054 Mona’s Choice. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander 20 

1055 Katharine Regina. By Walter 

t 20 

1056 The Bride of the Nile. By 

George Ebers. 1st half 20 

1056 The Bride of the Nile. By 

George Ebers. 2d half 20 

1057 A Life Interest. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander 20 


1058 Masaniello ; or, The Fisherman 

of Naples. Alexander Dumas 20 

1059 Confessions -of an English Opi- 

um-Eater, and The English 
Mail-Coach. By Thomas De 


Quincey 20 

1060 The Lady of the Lake. By Sir 

Walter Scott, Bart 20 

1061 A Queer Race : The Story of a 

Strange People. By William 
Westall 20 

1062 The Deerslayer; or, O'he First 

War-Path. By J; I'enimore 
Cooper. First half 20 

1062 The Deerslayer; or, The First 

War-Path. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper. Second Half 20 

1063 Kenilworth. By Sir Walter 

Scott, Bart. First half 20 

1063 Kenilworth. By Sir Walter 

Scott, Bart. Second half 20 

1064 Only the Governess. By Rosa 

N ouchette Carey 20 

1065 Herr Paulus: His Rise, His 

Greatness, and His Fall. By 
Walter Besant 20 

1066 My Husband and I. By Count 

Lyof Tolstoi 10 

1067 Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 

First half 20 

1067 Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 

Second half 20 

1068 Vendetta! or. The Story of One 

Forgotten. By Marie Corelli. 20 

1069 Polikouchka. By Count Lyof 

Tolstoi 10 

1070 A Life’s Mistake. By Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 20 

1071 The Death of Ivan Iliitch. By 

Count Lyof Tolstoi 10 


1072 Only a Coral Girl. By Gertrude 

Forde 20 

1073 Two Generations. By Count 

Lyof Tolstoi 10 

1074 Stormy Waters. By Robert 

Buchanan «0 

1075 The Mystery of a Hansom Cab. 

By Fergus W. Hume 20 


1076 The Mystery of an Omnibus. 

By F. Du Boisgobey 20 

1077 The Nun’s Curse. By Mrs. J. 

H. Riddell ao 

1078 The Slaves of Paris— Blackmail 

By Emile Gaboriau. Isthalf.. 20 

1078 The Slaves of Paris. — The 

Champdoce Secret. By Emile 
Gaboriau. 2d half 20 

1079 Beautiful Jim: of the Blank- 

shire Regiment. By John 
Strange Winter 20 

1080 Bertha’s Secret. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. Isthalf 20 

1080 Bertha’s Secret. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 26 

1081 Too Curious. By Edward J. 

Goodman 20 

1082 The Severed Hand. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

1082 The Severed Hand. By F. Du 

Boisgobei'. 2d half 20 

1083 The Little Old Man of the Bat- 

ignolles. By Emile Gaboriau 10 

1084 Chris. By W. E. Norris 20 

1085 The Matapan Affair. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

1085 The Jlatapan Affair. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

1086 Nora. By Carl Detlef ^ 

1087 A Woman’s Face; or, A Lake- 

land Mystery. By F. Warden 20 

1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 

coq. By F. Du Boisgobey. 1st 
half 20 

1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 

coq. By F. Du Boisgobey. 2d 
half 26 

1089 Home Sounds. By E. Werner 20 

1090 The CossacKB. By Count Lyof 

Tolstoi 20 

1091 A Modern Cinderella. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme 10 

1092 A Glorious Gallop. By Mrs. 

Edward Kennard 20 

1093 In the Schillingscourt. By E. 

Marlitt 20 

1094 Homo Sum. By George Ebers. 20 

1095 The Legacy of Cain. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

1096 The Strange Adventures of a 

House-Boat. William Black 20 

1097 The Burgomaster’s Wife. By 

George Ebers 20 

1098 The Fatal Three. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

1099 The Lasses of Leverhouse. By 

Jessie Fothergill 20 

llOb Mr. Meeson’s Will. By H Rider 

Hagga rd v/ 'i’ V ^ 

1101 An Egyptian Princess. Vol. I. 


1101 An Egyptian Princess. Vol. II. 

By George Ebers 20 

1102 Young Mr. Barter’s Repent- 

ance. By David Christie Mur- 
ray 10 

1108 The Honorable Mns. Vereker. 

By “The Duchess”.. 20 


% 

THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.-Pocket Edition. 

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Al\Tny!i» iIiiclBaH»'e<l »n«l IJun1»i*idg'ed. 

WITH HANDSOME LITHOGRAPHED PAPER COVER. 

LATES'l’ ISSUES: 


NO. PUICIC. 

669 Pole on Whist 20 

432 THE WITCH’S HEAD. By 

H. Hider HajiKard 20 

1164 Rob Roy. By Sir Walter Scott, 

Bart. 1st half 20 

1164 Rob Roy. By Sir Walter Scott, 

Bart. 2d half 20 

1165 The Sea-King. By Captain 

Marryat 20 

1166 The Betrothed : A Tale of the 

Crusaders, and theClironicles 
of the Canongate. By Sir 
Walter Scott. Bart. 1st half. 20 

1166 The Betrothed : A Tale of the 

Crusaders, and the Chronicles 
of the Canongate. By Sir 
Walter Scott, Bart. 2d half. . 20 

1167 Captain Contanceau; or. The 
Volunteers of 1792. By Emile 

Gaboriau 20 

The Flight to France; or. The 

Memoirs of a Dragoon. A 
Tale of the Day of Dumotiriez. 

By Jules Verne 

Commodore Junk. ByG. Man- 

ville Fenn 

Sophy Carmine. By John S. 

Winter ! 20 

1172 India and her Neighbors. By 

W. P. Andrew 

Won by Waiting. By Edna 

Lyall ■ 

The Polish Princess. By I. I. 

Kraszewski 

A Tale of an Old Castle. By 
W. Heimburg 

1176 Guilderoy. By “Ouida” 20 

1177 A Dangerous Cat's-paw. By 

David Christie Murray and 
Henry Murray 20 

St. Cuthbert’s Tower. By Flor- 
ence Warden 20 

Beauty’s Marriage: or, “AVhat 
Some Have Found so Sweet.” 

By Charlotte M. Braeme 10 

1180 The Two Chiefs of Dunboy; or. 

An Irish Romance of the Last 
Century. By J. A. Froude. . . 20 
The Fairy of the Alps. By E. 

Werner 20 

The Reproach of Annesley. 

By Maxwell Gray 20 


1168 


1169 

1171 


1173 

1174 

1175 


1178 

1179 


1181 

1182 


20 

20 


20 

20 

20 

20 


NO. PRICK. 

1183 Jack of Hearts. A Story of 
Bohemia. By H. T. Johnson. 20 
A Crown of Shame. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 20 

Guelda. A Novel 20 

Suzanne. By the author of^^A 

Great Mistake” 20 

My Heart’s Darling. By AV. 

Heimburg 20 

A Crooked Path. By Mrs. Al- 

20 

CI.EOPATRaV Beingan Ac- 
count of the Fall and Venge- 
ance of Harmachis, the Royal 
Egyptian, as set fortli by His 
Own Hand. By H. Rider 

Haggard .1^ 20 

On Circumstantial Evidence. 

By Florence Mariyat 20 

Aliss Kate ; or, Confessions of 

a Caretaker. By “Rita” 20 

1193 The Fog Princes. A Romance 
of the Dark Metropolis. By 

Florence Warden 20 

The Search for Basil Lynd- 
hurst. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey 30 

The Autobiography of a Slan- 
der, by Edna Lyall; and 
“ Jerry.” — “ That Night in 
June.” — A Wrong Turning. — 
Irish Love and Marriage. By 

the “Duchess.” 10 

A False Scent. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander 10 

IMehalah. A Story of the Salt 
Marshes. By S. Bariug-Gould. 20 
Harvest. By John Strange 

Winter 20 

1204 The Lodge by the Sea. By 

Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron 20 

A Lost Wife. By Mrs. H. Lov- 
ett Cameron 20 

Derrick Vaughan — Novelist. 

By Edna Lyall 10 

1207 The Princess and the Jew. By 

I. I. Kraszewski 20 

Merle’s Crusade. By Rosa Nou- 
chette Care}’^ 20 

A Troublesome Girl. By “ The 

Duchess ” 20 

1210 Marooned. By W. Clark Russell 20 


1184 

1186 

1187 

1188 

1189 

1190 


1191 

1192 


1194 


1197 


1199 

1201 

1202 


1205 

1206 


1208 

1209 


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